


Shuklâlh

by silverneko9lives0



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Based on "The Outsiders" by S.E. Hinton, Bullying, Don't Like Don't Read, Dori's not evil, Gang Violence, I swear!, Inspired by Novel, M/M, Original Character Death(s), Romance, Suicide, Teen Romance, Verbal Abuse, Violence, original characters are also main characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-01-24 07:26:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 28,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1596545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverneko9lives0/pseuds/silverneko9lives0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Very few of the company come from low income households. The sons of Fundin are warriors, the Durins are royalty, Bilbo is grandson to one of the greatest Thains in the Shire, Oin and Gloin are also warriors. Only the Urs and the Brothers Ri are from low-income homes and even the Urs have it better. </p><p>An offhanded comment is made about a gang (Kurdâlh) in Belegost one night and Ori loses it. When Fili and Kili go to check on him after Ori’s run off, the company finds out that he and his brothers are part of that gang and thirteen years ago, his two best friends died—one at Dwalin’s hand. </p><p>Based on/inspired by S.E. Hinton's "The Outsiders." </p><p>Ori=Ponyboy<br/>Nori=Sodapop<br/>Dori=Darry</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. November Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters titled after songs

_If we could take the time_

_To lay it on the line_

_I could rest my head_

_Just knowin' that you were mine_

* * *

 

My fingers pause, gripping the needles in my hands. They are choked between my fingers, which dent.

“Didn’t Kurdâlh destroy that mine?”

“Aye,” Dwalin sighed, arms crossed. “Makes me worry how the guards are handling them. Kurdâlh have been getting more violent over the years. It was only a matter of time before they stepped up their game.”

All of that is a lie.

Kurdâlh isn’t a gang, per say. We’re more…just a cluster of different gangs on different turfs running our own different sects—but most of us are still children. What Dwalin is talking about is _not_ Kurdâlh. I don’t know where he got the idea that it was, but he’s wrong. We’re not an organized unit.

No one who is considered among Kurdâlh is capable of what Dwalin describes.

“You caught a few of them, though? Being a guard?”

“Aye,” Dwalin admitted. “Killed a couple, too. Worst one was a lad.”

I look up.

Dwalin’s gaze is dark. His mouth is turned in a frown. “Poor kid robbed a merchant. He was told to stop, but wouldn’t. I threw Grasper at him and misjudged the distance. Grasper split his spine—”

“It was you?!” I shout.

The camp silences. Dwalin turns to me.

“What?”

“It was _you_.”

This time, it’s an accusation. I see it now. How I didn’t recognize Grasper…ignoring the similarities Dwalin had with _him_. To think I had spent the last two months on the road, trying to convince myself otherwise because I had been attracted to Dwalin.

“Sit down,” Dori growled.

My fists shook, itching to pound into Dwalin’s jaw. I ignore the urge to attack, deciding, instead, to throw my yarn onto the ground and stalk off.

“Ori! _Ori!!_ ” Dori shouted. His voice urged me onward into a run instead of beckoning me to return. I slammed into a tree, heaving for breath.

_Kazrik…Ithal…_

I slide to the ground, free to weep in a way I hadn’t in such a long time. An urge to scream wells in the back of my throat. I can’t let it out, after thirteen years, how can I let it out now?

“Ori?!”

“Ori!!”

They’re getting closer. At least, Fili and Kili are. I pull my legs to my chin, and hide my face in my arms. _Just go away. Please. Leave me alone._

“Ori?” a hand touches my shoulder. For a moment, I thought I was looking at Ithal again—it’s not Ithal, though. It’s Kili. He kneels down to my eyelevel. “Ori, what’s wrong? Why’d you run off like that?”

“Dwalin wants to know what you meant earlier,” Fili added, approaching us. “So does Thorin. Whatever you know about that particular night…Ori, it tortures Dwalin enough. No Dwarf in his right mind _wants_ to hurt a youth.”

I scoff, shoulders shaking. “That’s cute. Nobody ‘wants to hurt a youth.’ That’s fucking adorable! Ha! You may be of age, but you really don’t know shit, do you?”

“Does it have to do with why you keep your hair short?” Kili asked. My hand darts to my hair, clipped to the nape. “I ask only because most Dwarves your age, profession regardless, pride themselves of long hair and braids detailing each of their own accomplishments.”

“Thorin keeps his beard short for all the lives lost,” Fili added, pretending that I didn’t mock him or that he feels slighted. “But thirteen years ago you probably didn’t have much of a beard to trim, so you cut your hair.”

I glare at him for figuring it out.

“You knew the boy Dwalin killed.”

“His name,” I snarl, “was Kazrik. And he was grieving. That same night, a couple hours before Dwalin killed him, his One died.”

Shock etched on their faces.

“ _His One died_ ,” I repeated. “He was fifty-eight years old, almost fifty-nine. It’s hard enough on adults to lose their One! Imagine having to experience _that grief_ at fifty-eight when you and your One still had your whole life ahead of you and he dies from an injury that cannot be healed and you can’t _fathom_ what life would be without him but you’re too afraid to take your own life yourself?”

“Ori—”

“ _I’m Kurdâlh_ ,” I half-yell. “I’m one of Kurdâlh. So are my brothers. None who you call Kurdâlh is _capable_ of what you were all talking about earlier, you Kilmel.” I spit the word out, standing. I shove my fists into my pockets, so to resist the urge to punch Fili and Kili.

“Why would you think we’re Kilmel?” Kili asks calmly. “We’re pretty close to being Kurdâlh ourselves…as for Dwalin and the others…well, Ori, they’re adults. They don’t understand it the way we do. We know those crimes aren’t being done by Kurdâlh at all, but by a much more organized group…it’s hard to have the blame put on us and no one _knew_ you and your brothers were Kurdâlh. I mean…Dori doesn’t seem like it.”

“To you, no. But you also recognize that despite his silver hair he’s actually rather young, just a few years older than Fili…”

I square myself. I should be calming down. I push past them. Fili stops me, his hand squeezing my shoulder.

“We’re friends, Ori. Regardless whether you think of us as Kurdâlh or Kilmel, I consider you a friend. I understand not wanting to talk about what happened, but it might be for the best to do so. It doesn’t have to be now, but…maybe someday when you trust me and Kili a little more?”

“Yeah,” Kili piped, standing. “We love you, Ori. Everyone in the Company loves you a lot and Dwalin, well, even if your brothers want to deny it—”

“I want _nothing_ to do with him.”

“For now,” Fili said, in a tone that stated he believed he was correcting me. “For _now_ , you want nothing to do with him. You’re angry. It’s understandable when that sort of confession is made, but Dwalin…an idiot could tell you that he adores you and that you have a crush on him.”

“ _Did_. And even if I did forget what the Dwarf that killed Kazrik looked like, it doesn’t excuse that my feelings for Dwalin is a betrayal.”

“Ori—”

Fili narrowed his eyes at Kili, who silenced.

“Let’s go back to camp,” he suggested. “And you can tell us your side of the story when you’re ready. But I’d personally get it out of the way and just tell everyone what really happened. You’re Kurdâlh and it was your friend who was killed. And it was long enough ago that it might be the right time for everyone who doesn’t know what you know to know.”

Fili’s grip on my shoulder never lessens as he steers me back toward the camp.

Dori is shaking, wringing his hands and staring at the ground. When he looks up, a familiar anger flashes through his eyes. He closes them and inhales deeply. Nori only seems a bit disappointed, but pulls me into an embrace anyway.

The others stare at me, as though they don’t know what to make of me.

I’m not surprised. I’m supposed to be the quiet one, the timid little scribe. It was an image I meant to maintain. I don’t need them to know about my life as one of Kurdâlh. Or Nori’s. Or Dori’s.

Yet Dwalin’s supposedly mournful nonchalance toward Kazrik’s death upset me in a way I had not been upset in a long time.

I glance at Fili, who’s whispering to Thorin. Our leader’s eyes shift to me and I know Fili has told him that Kurdâlh had joined his company.

But what else?

What will he do?

Will the contracts we signed be made void?

Or will Thorin demand to know what I do about that night and then pass judgment?

Bilbo looks very confused, looking from one face to the other. There is some understanding, as he keeps silent, but beyond that, he looks like a rabbit caught in a trap.

I sigh. “Goodnight,” I say, ignoring the company’s worried gaze.

I curl into my roll, my back to everyone. I bite my lip and screw my eyes shut, holding my breath because I am afraid of what will escape my lips if I dare to breathe. I lie as still as possible, trying to keep from shaking from anger and sorrow.

One of my brothers lies down beside me, his back pressed to mine.

“How much do they know?”

“Only that we’re Kurdâlh,” I say.

Nori sighs. “Are you ready to talk about it?”

I don’t respond. I really haven’t any idea whether or not I am ready to discuss it. “Maybe,” I say. “I’ll have to start growing my hair again if I do.”

“That was the agreement you and Dori had. I don’t particularly care. But, I think, with your talent, you can definitely do them justice. I think Kazrik and Ithal would like that.”

“Would _have_ liked that,” I correct.

“The living must honor the dead. I know they were your best friends, but it’s time to let them go.”

“I know.”

“Well, when you’re ready, I’d like to know what happened from someone who actually _knows_ what happened that night. As far as I knew, Kazrik was killed by a guard and Ithal died of severe burns. You know what really happened, though, and my curiosity has been _dying_ for the last decade.”

“Shut up.”

“Goodnight, Nadadith.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: November Rain, Guns and Roses


	2. Dear Agony

_Carry me to heaven's arms_

_Light the way and let me go_

_Take the time to take my breath_

_I will end where I began_

* * *

 

The most uncomfortable part about being tied to a roasting spit isn’t actually being tied to it. At least not for me. True being placed between your companions’ legs isn’t at all comfortable, but it’s the heat from the fire that got to me more.

The memories I had long pushed down surfaced and it was all I could do to keep calm until Gandalf came. Once I had been released, I hid behind a tree, shaking and leaning against it as though I couldn’t keep warm enough after I was free.

Dori was vomiting in the bush a few yards away.

“Lad?” Dwalin called, fixing his knuckle dusters. “Feeling all right?” I glare at him and turn my face away. Dwalin sighed. “I know you’re angry, but you can’t ignore me forever, Ori.”

“Watch me.”

I’m sure he has more to say on it and I’m prepared for the lashing I’m bound to get, but Thorin calls him.

“We’ll talk later, Ori.”

 _No,_ I thought, getting to my feet and approaching my eldest brother. _We won’t_. “Dori?”

He spat out his water. “ _Never_ again. Next time we get caught by trolls, I’m dragging you and Nori far in the other direction.” He looked at me and his scowl softened. “You’re not about to be sick, are you?” I shake my head. “The fire,” he said, then patted my back. “It’s all right to cry, Ori, if you need to.”

“I’ll be all right, I just…I didn’t expect to remember _that_ so…violently, I guess.”

“Are you sure?”

“ _Please_ don’t second guess me,” I beg, pulling away from him. “I’m fifty-one, Dori, I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“True, but you’ll always be my kid brother whether you like it or not.” He walked away, heading to talk to Bifur and check on the others. Many in the company described Dori as a mother-hen. He’s actually the leader of the Kurdâlh group we’re in.

Other gangs know him as Khulzhel—the ultimate man, or the ideal man—because of his great strength. He doesn’t wear tattoos or piercings of any kind and he never really needed to. His braids were enough and his strength always spoke for himself.

What the rest of the company calls “mother-henning” is Dori in leader mode or big-brother mode. It’s toned down though, otherwise there’d be a lot more screaming and punching. He avoids Thorin when he can and I think it’s because of their similar natures. He doesn’t want them to clash.

“Hello, Ori,” Bilbo said, sitting beside me. He handed me a few berries and I thank him. “You seem a bit peaky, so I thought something light might settle your stomach. I already found mint and handed some of that to Dori.”

“I’m sure he was grateful for that,” I say, placing a couple blueberries on my tongue. “Thank you for doing what you can to save us.”

Bilbo blushed. “It wasn’t much. I couldn’t get anyone down.”

“But you distracted them. That’s more than the rest of us had done. _Don’t_ belittle your efforts. You tried and that’s the most we can hope for, Mister Baggins.”

“Please, call me Bilbo. Your brother does.”

“Nori? Well, Nori’s never been one for propriety, I guess. Dori drilled it into me.”

“Why? I mean, if you’re gangsters…”

“It’s just his thing. A lot of our friends, I guess you could say, address him as ‘Sir’ or ‘Mr. Dori’ because if they don’t he’ll break their arm.”

“Even your friend? The one who died?”

“He was more like Nori. Kazrik and Nori were partners in crime, being close in age with each other and he worked in Dori’s shop when he wasn’t out robbing places with Nori. Even then, it was either ‘Boss,’ ‘Dori,’ or ‘Khulzhel.’”

“Khulzhel?”

“Dori’s byname,” I clarify. Gandalf approached us and I’m sent to get the ponies. They’re gone and I’m frozen by the sound of howling. Better get those ponies…or I would if they were still here. Bolted. Damn the trolls! I run back to tell the others.

“We have to get out of here,” Dwalin said. A dead Warg lay at Thorin’s feet.

“We can’t!” I shout. “We have no ponies: they bolted!”

I was not expecting to run over the Ford to avoid Wargs and Orcs. Nor I was I expecting to nearly get caught, Thorin grabbing me at the last minute.

 _Do you ever think?!_ Dori’s voice screamed in my head. I tried to rid the echo from my mind. These memories still haunt me, though they’re gone and Dori has been better. He’s been trying to be better.

The hurt is still there, though. And it seems the wounds still scab.

We’re spotted by our pursuers and engage in battle. I can’t use my knife, having to settle for my useless slingshot. It’s good for fun, but against Wargs? Orcs? It’s times like this, I wish I had something a bit more substantial than a pocket knife.

“This way, you fools!” Gandalf shouted.

We followed him into the tunnel in time to be rescued by Elves and be introduced to the Lord of Rivendell. While the others gripe about the place, I notice Nori surveying the place, looking for goods and Dori has already gotten into a conversation with one of them.

We were given our own rooms, but Thorin insisted we stay together rather than take up their hospitality. I half feel it is Thorin’s fault that our dinner was primarily lettuce and bread, but decide to keep my mouth shut.

Midway through it, I resign to starvation and excuse myself from the table, opting to sketch the scenery here while there is still light. I feel someone approach, but do not give him any indication that I know that they’re there. I don’t care, so long as I can draw.

“You were the boy that night.” I look at Dwalin. “Were you not?”

I stare at my sketchbook, barely registering the half finished drawing…

_Kazrik fell to his knees, eyes growing dark and lifeless as he fell to the ground, his skin scraped on the stone. An ax is embedded in his back. Apart from the blood pooling around him were the tears still trailing down his cheeks. He held a blondbraid in his hand, the ends charred black..._

_I couldn’t look away, despite Dori’s shouts. Nori grabbed my shoulders and pulled me to his chest, trying to shield me from the corpse._

_A guard stepped forward, pulling the ax free as others surrounded us.  “Shit,” one of them muttered, as they surrounded us. “It’s a kid…”_

“I was,” I said. “And I don’t want to talk to about it.”

“That’s not healthy, Lad.”

“You know nothing about it!” I yelled, closing my book and standing. I glared at Dwalin. “And you don’t know _anything_ about Kurdâlh! And _still_ you judge my friends and my brothers! We aren’t monsters and if you knew _anything_ about us at all, you’d know that! You’d know we’re just kids! You’d know what sort of life we live and the code we live by! Like it or not, being part of Kurdâlh means survival of the fittest! We aren’t criminals by choice and we aren’t terrorists no matter how much the guard _wants_ us to be! Okay, so Kaz wasn’t an innocent and he had a pretty long rap sheet, but you still know _nothing_!”

Through the rant, I had gone into a defensive position, shoulders hunched, hands stuffed in my pockets fingering my pocket knife which, and eyes narrowed.

I wasn’t much of a fighter. Neither of my brothers was all that keen on me being in a fight of any kind though I’ve been in several, including the Dumúhúrud on the night Ithal and Kazrik died. There was no way I could physically win in a fight against Dwalin if it came to it. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t try. Nori always said I was scrappy. Dori said I was the dirtiest fighter in the gang, but he didn’t mind it that much so long as I kept my head about me.

“You’re right,” Dwalin said. “I don’t know much about Kurdâlh, except for all the crimes committed by them…most of them were young adults, though.”

“I’ve been one of Kurdâlh since I was eighteen or nineteen,” I snarled. Dwalin stares at me, as though he could barely understand what I said. I may as well have spoken Sindarin. “Do you really think children and teenagers could do the atrocities you described a couple nights ago?”

He doesn’t answer. I put my sketchbook away and sling the satchel over my shoulder. Dwalin grabs my arm. “Let go of me,” I snarl.

“Ori, I didn’t mean to kill your friend. It was an accident.”

“No,” I snarl. “It wasn’t. You were an unwitting player, sure. But his death was not an accident. Now let go.” I yank free of Dwalin’s grasp, deciding to join the others on the veranda where they had set up a fire and were cooking the spoils from pillaging the kitchens.

I sit between my brothers and Dori hands me a napkin with two sausages. It’s not much, but it’ll do. “Thanks,” I say, picking one up and tearing into it.

“You’re welcome.”

“You seem more on edge than when you left,” Nori said, leaning back and smoking his pipe. “You all right, Ori?”

“Yeah…I’m fine. It’s just…since…”

“Kaz and Ithal again?”

I nod. “I don’t know if I’m ready to talk about it.”

Dori gave me a one armed hug. “There’s time still,” he assured me. “But you can’t mourn forever, Ori.”

“I know.” I jump at a crash while everyone else laughed at Bombur’s expense, adding wood from the broken table to the fire. “When we have everyone here,” I decide. My voice trembles and my hands shake. “I don’t to tell it more than once.”

Nori ruffled my hair. “We’re here for you, Nadadith.”

If I’m going to tell their story, it’ll have to be when everyone is present and not before…

Thorin and Bilbo returned, talking quietly to each other. I glance at Dori. “Can I tell it now?”

“Are you sure?” Nori asked, frowning at me.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready, so I may as well just get it over with,” I say, resigned. My brothers look at each other and Nori whistles.

Eyes fix on us and I clear my throat. “I, uh, know you’ve been wondering about…about what I know…and…” I look at Dori, who nods and gives my hand a gentle squeeze—or as gentle as it could be from him. “You’ll have to…to forgive me, I’ve not talked about… _that_ night before, so…”

I close my eyes and take a breath. I feel their eyes on me and the only sound is the fire, the only smell is boiled eggs and roasted sausages and smoke. When I open my eyes again, I look up.

“Their names were Ithal and Kazrik. Ithal was a runaway. His father was a drunkard and his mother a gambler. He suffered frequent abuse by their hands. He was about my age now when Dori took him in, offering him a job at the shop we have back in Ered Luin. And a spare room in our house. He was our brother, though not by blood.

“And then there was Kazrik, but everyone called him Kaz. Nori took him under his wing. Kaz was violent and compulsive with a rap sheet as long as my arm. Not as long as Nori’s though.”

Nori shrugged and rubbed my back.

“He and Ithal were each other’s Sanzeuh and they were my closest friends next to my brothers. What I’m…what I’m about to tell you is the story of…how they died.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Khuzdul~
> 
> Khulzhel=the male of all males, Darry is called “superman” by his gang, so…
> 
> Dumúhúrud=blood-battle/rumble
> 
> Sanzeuh=One
> 
>  
> 
> Song: Dear Agony, Breaking Benjamin


	3. 37 MM

_Bring your secrets to me_

_Just give me your hands_

_And I’ll let you feel the wounds_

_They put in me_

* * *

 

~Ered Luin, Thirteen Years Ago~

My legs pumped fast and my breathing came out in gasping stops.

Why, _why_ didn’t Dori let me have a knife or some other weapon?!

I turn down an alley and try to press against the wall, hiding in the darkness. Tears trailed down my cheeks. I think I’m going to throw up.

“There he is!”

  1. I turn to run and freeze, staring at the wall before me. _Fuck, fuck, fuck!_



 “Hey, _Kurdâlith_.”

 “Don’t try to run, we just want to help you tame that rat’s nest on your head.”

“Aw, the rat’s shivering.”

I press against the wall, tears prickling my eyes.

No, no, no, I can’t cry.

I won’t give them the satisfaction.

Two of them step toward me, seizing my arms and pulling me closer. They’re much larger than I am, older…no matter how much I struggle to get out of their grasp, their too strong and I’m forced to the ground.

“What a mess!”

“We’ll have to cut your hair. No way is this tamable.”

A knife pressed against my neck. “We’ll start here.”

I don’t know what else to do. “Dori!” I scream. “Nori! Somebody!”

“Hold him still!”

“Keep him down!”

“Shut up, you brat!”

The knife nicks my neck and the sting makes me still. One of them grabs my hair in a tight fist, tugging my head upward and another knife is pressed to my scalp.

Even if I don’t want to cry, I can’t stop the tears from flowing down my cheeks now.

Blinking through them, I see a group running by.

One of them stops and looks down the alley.

I recognize the hair—a trio of peaks shaped into a star or crown. Nori runs over,  grabs the one pressing the knife to my throat and pulls him off, tossing him with an enraged yell.

“Get off him!” Ithal shouted, slamming his boot into the face of one of the Kilmel holding me down.

“You gonna shiv a bairn, you mother-fucking Orc-scum!” Grun added, slamming his fist into another.

The fight is short lived and the Kilmel are running. I’m pulled to my feet by Dori.

“Are you all right?” he demanded, patting me for wounds. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” I say, voice trembling. “I’m okay.”

Dori sighed. His fingers dug into my shoulders and I pull away from him. Sometimes, Dori forgets his strength.

“Why were you walking home alone and so late?”

I swallow. “I lost track of time,” I admit. “I was at the library—”

“Again?!” Dori snapped. “How often am I going to have to drill it into your head until it stays that you _can’t_ go walking around alone in _that_ place without a weapon!”

“You won’t let me _have_ a weapon,” I mutter.

“Mahal above, Ori, you’re a smart lad! Why do you never use your head when you need it most?!”

“Dori,” Nori said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, “the kid just had a scare. So tone it down and let’s go home.”

Dori glared at us and I averted his gaze. Anything to avoid looking at Dori.

We walked home in silence. I pressed close to Nori, hating how much I still trembled.

I don’t truly relax until we’re safely locked inside our home.

Grun and Dori retreat to the kitchen to make a late dinner and I curl up on our couch.

“We’re having chicken and chips,” Nori told me, falling into the seat next to me in the center of the couch. “Extra chips.”

I managed to give him a weak smile.

Kaz sits across from us, stretching.

“Pity it wasn’t ready sooner,” he muttered, “I’m starving.”

“You’re always hungry,” Ithal said, joining us. It was a rebuke without bite, and Kaz just smirked at him.

“I can name _many_ things I’m hungry for,” he said, eyeing Ithal ferally.

Ithal rolled his eyes and Nori tossed a pillow at him.

“What? C’mon, Ithal, I’m just teasing! _Ghivasha,_ don’t leave me to fend for myself…”

“Then stop turning everything into some sort of innuendo,” Nori snapped. “There are impressionable bairns here.”

“I’m thirty-eight, Nori,” I remind him. My brothers seem to always need a constant reminding that I am _very_ well aware of what Kaz and Ithal get to behind closed doors. “And you’re _sadly_ mistaken if you think you and Dori are any less lewd.”

Nori’s eyebrows rise up to his hairline, the small eyebrow braids scrunching outward. “Dori? Lewd?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“No. No, I do _not_.”

“I kinda do,” Kaz said, smirking. “Khulzhel has a naughty streak? That’s interesting.”

Nori and I shudder. I fail to see how _that_ is interesting.

Ithal returns with a tray with mugs and a tea cup on it. The tea is for me from Dori. I take it, mumbling thanks, while the mugs of ale are passed around to the others.

After the tray is set down and Ithal has his own mug, Kaz pulls Ithal into his lap. Ithal blushes, hissing a rebuke to him, but Kaz laughs and kisses him before letting him up to sit more comfortably beside him in another chair.

Despite being teenagers still, it was hard to not see Kaz and Ithal as married. They even wear marriage braids in their hair. It used to cause a stir at the market, but they’re each other’s Sanzeuh and none of us see any reason why they shouldn’t be together. Kaz only truly listens to Ithal and Ithal is most at home and confident with Kaz.

The balance between them is striking, especially since they are so strongly different from each other.

Dori said that they have to be more alike than they seem, otherwise they’d not balance each other so well. He also says they’re behavior toward each other is often fueled by their youth.

Nori says that’s Dori’s way of saying their horny.

So long as they don’t keep us up at night, I don’t particularly mind them being horny. I think Ithal makes sure that it’s never right in our faces so that we aren’t uncomfortable around him and Kaz.

When Dori calls us to join him and Grun in the kitchen, an hour of laughing and joking and storytelling has passed. There is a whole, braised chicken in front of us and two bowls of chips.

Grun and Nori joke together, laughing at one of Nori’s stories of how he and Kaz got past the guard. Again.

#

Though I keep my promise and stay away from the library for a few days, I’m climbing walls. Dori still is reluctant to let me return to the library, though it’s been nearly a week since the attack.

I turned onto my other side.

I want to get up, light the candle, and _do_ something, but I don’t know what I should do. It doesn’t help that I feel trapped in my own home. Soft raps on my door call to me and I tiptoe out of bed.

It’s Ithal.

“Want to go to the library?”

“What?”

“Yes or no,” Kaz hissed down the hall. “We don’t have all night.”

I bite my lip. “Let me get dressed,” I tell them. I light the candle so to see, fumbling for my breeches, shirt, and a cloak. After I pulled my boots on and blew the candle out, I met Ithal and Kaz downstairs.

“Ready to go?” Ithal asked.

“More than ready,” I say, walking out before them.

My fingers itched to touch pages again. I _needed_ to read, to absorb whatever I could find in the library like a sponge soaking in water.

We ran from the house, toward the wealthier districts of Belegost. With so few outside, we managed to get the library in very little time. Kaz picked the door’s lock and we stepped inside.

I grabbed a torch and lit it. “Thanks,” I said to them. “You guys have _no idea_ how much I needed to get back here.”

“Well, we had some semblance of how bad it was getting when you started snapping at everything that moved,” Kaz said. “Now _go_ , we’ve only a couple more hours before Dori comes home from wherever and realizes we’re gone.”

“He won’t worry about you two.”

“No,” Ithal said. “But he’ll panic if you’re gone.”

A couple hours, huh? I race to a shelf and start thumbing through the books.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "37 mm" by Afi


	4. Face the Truth

I'm living with fear  
From morning to night  
I'm losing my passion for life,  
Hoping that the end of my worries is near

* * *

The candle burns low and I’m halfway through a manuscript when I realize that more time than we wanted had gone by. I put the books back, my heart hammering in my chest. I have to find Kaz and Ithal. I search the rows, my panic rising each time I don’t find them, considering screaming for them to get their asses out from where they’re hiding so we can go.

I find them in one of the shelves filled with the chronicles of Dwarven Kings. Kaz had an arm around Ithal’s waist and a hand tangled in his hair. Ithal’s arms were wrapped around Kaz’s neck. Kaz broke the kiss to nip at Ithal’s neck.

I hate interrupting them, but if Dori realizes we’re gone, especially if _I’m_ gone…

I don’t want to think about it, I clear my throat. Ithal glances at me and gasps, pushing Kaz off. Kaz glares at me, but that’s only to be expected. “What time is it?” Ithal asks.

“No idea,” I say. “Late. If Dori wakes up—”

“All right,” Kaz sigs, running a hand through his hair, “Let’s get you home before Dori has an aneurysm.”

“Sorry,” I mumble. Kaz ruffles my hair, assuring me he doesn’t mind though I’m sure he does. We lock the door again and head home. Kaz is silent while I tell Ithal about the books I managed to get through before realizing the time.

A figure jumps out, tacking Kaz to the ground. There’s laughing and cursing. Kaz aims a kick at the laughing figure who jumps away, slapping his knee.

“Hi, Grun,” I say.

“Well, well, well,” Grun said, pulling me into a hug. “Look who’s finally embracing his Kurdâlh side, sneaking out at night and what not.”

“We went to the library,” Kaz sighed. “I hardly think that counts.”

“Well, it _is_ Ori,” Grun said. “Did you get any books?”

“I didn’t steal, if that’s what you’re asking. Dori would kill me. I just read while these two decided to on desecrating the library.”

“We did no such thing!” Ithal protested, blushing.

“We _could_ have if _someone_ didn’t decide to cockblock us,” Kaz muttered. Grun howled with laughter.

“Way to go, Ori! You make your brother proud.”

“Nori, sure, but not Dori.”

“You do a lot of things to make Dori proud,” Grun said. “You’re a smart kid.”

“Who doesn’t use my smarts,” I mutter, remembering the attack. I tremble at the memory. “It’s not like anything I do really impresses Dori. He’s always yelling at me.” I walk between Grun and Ithal. Kaz’s arm is around Ithal’s shoulders and I find myself leaning into Grun. “Sometimes I think he wishes I wasn’t around, like I’m a burden or something. Dori hates me.”

Grun’s hand grips my shoulder and I look up, noticing the shock they all have on their faces. I don’t know why they look so startled by this. They’ve seen how Dori yells at me, the way he looks at me…

Ithal looks at Kaz and kneels. “Ori, Dori might be hard on you from time to time, but the three of you get along better than most families Kurdâlh comes from. He worries about you. Sometimes it’s hard for him to show how much he really cares properly.”

“You can’t really believe that Dori hates you, Ori,” Grun adds. “He’d never trade you for anyone. It’s difficult for a young adult to raise a Dwarfling. That Dori took the challenge head on and sacrificed so much for you and Nori shows those who know you three how much he loves you both. _Never_ think that Dori hates you when he’s given up so much for you. He wants to see you succeed, so he pushes you a little harder than some would.”

I’m not so sure it’s as cut and dry as that. It’s something I’ve heard many times before, but it doesn’t mean that I feel any less of a burden to Dori. Kaz and Ithal run off not long after, deciding to stay out a little while longer while Grun takes me home, cracking jokes to make me smile again.

The lights are still off when we arrive home. Grun waits for me to get into the door and heads to his own house after. I close the door softly behind me, removing my cloak and wipe the boots free of dust before I head for the staircase.

“Welcome home.”

I gasp, turning to see Dori in the living room. A single lamp lit. His hands are locked together to reduce their shaking and his eyes flash. I think my feet have grown roots into the stone.

Dori stands. “Have you _any_ idea what time it is? It’s nearly _three in the morning_!”

“I wasn’t alone,” I say.

“Well good for you!” Dori bellowed. I winced. “So I shouldn’t worry because Master Ori _wasn’t bloody alone_ when he ran out to traipse around Ered Luin and doing only _Mahal knows_ what!”

“What’s going on?” Nori stepped into the room, a knife in hand and his hair in disarray. “Ori?” I try to go to him, to hide, but Dori seized my shoulder. Nori turned to him. “Dori—”

“ _Shut up!_ ” Dori shouted. “ _I’m tired of you defending this miscreant!!_ ”

“DON’T YELL AT HIM!!” I screamed. It wasn’t Nori’s fault. I’ve never seen anyone yell at him before. It felt wrong for anyone to yell at Nori.

Dori’s hand released my shoulder and the back of it collided with my cheek. My legs collapsed under me and my hand cupped my cheek.

“Ori…” Dori knelt by me, reaching for me. I slammed my foot into his chest and ran. “Ori! _Ori!_ ” I didn’t stop for my cloak, leaving the door open behind me.

I keep running until I bump into someone, saying a quick apology before getting up and running again. They grab my hand. I gasp, looking up. It’s Ithal.

“Ori?” I bite my lip. “Ori, what happened?” I don’t answer, bowing my head. My eyes sting. “I’ll take you home.”

“No!” I shout, yanking my wrist out of Ithal’s grip. “I’m not going back there! I hate it there! I hate _him_!”

Ithal hushes me, brushing tears out of my eyes. I flinch away from him when his fingers touch my burning cheek. “What happened?”

“He hit me,” I say, gasping for air. “Dori hit me.” Ithal’s frown deepened and he pulled me into a hug.

“We won’t go home, then,” he said. “Shall we go to the fountain? Just until you’re ready to go home.”

“I’m not going back,” I say. "I’ll stay with Grun or something.” Ithal doesn’t respond, leading me to the fountain. It was carved in commemoration to the King, connected to an underwater spring. It’s usually on during the day, but at night, it’s off and the water drained. It’s three tiered.

Someone forgot to drain it tonight. I’m careful not to fall in as I sit on the rim of the fountains largest bowl. Ithal just sits with me, performing a knife trick he learned from Nori. He’s gotten rather good at handling it.

“You shouldn’t run away,” he said after a while. “I’m sure Dori didn’t mean to hit you. He never has before.” I shake my head. “Ori, I know Dori well enough to know he loves you—”

“He doesn’t, though. He doesn’t.”

“Oh, Ori…” Ithal hugs me, letting me rest my head on his shoulder as fresh tears spill out my eyes. “It’ll be okay. You’ll see.” I shake my head. Nothing is okay so long as I’m _there_. It’d be better if I left—

“Look what I’ve found!”

Ithal and I jumped up as five Kilmel approached us, slightly swaying and smirking. Ithal brandished his knife, pulling me behind him.

“No need for that thing,” one of them said. “Well cut your hairs later.” They circled us, pinning us in. “Start with the little one. We need to wash his hair before giving grooming him!” One of them grabs me.

“Ithal!!” I scream, my head plunged under the water. I try to break free, but I feel another pair of hands pinning me down. Water is swallowed, seeps into my nose. I scream, trying to break free.

Then my world turns black…

#

 _Come on, Ori…Ori! Ori, come on! Wake up!_ “Wake up!”

I coughed, turning on my side, vomit covering the stone beneath me.

“Thank Mahal,” Ithal said, pulling me into a hug. “Thank Mahal…”

“Wha…They were…they…”

“They’re gone,” he said. “They’re gone.” I look at him, seeing blood on his blade and hands. One of the Kilmel is slumped over a pool of blood beneath him. I stare at him.

“Ithal, you didn’t,” I whisper.

“What else was I supposed to do? Let you be killed?” he asked, letting me go and standing. He pulled me to my feet. I still stare at the corpse, frightened and unsure how to react to Ithal having blood on his hands. It’s something Kaz would do, not Ithal! _Never_ Ithal!

“What are we going to do?” I ask, trembling. “Ithal, the guard will come by soon…what are we going to do?!”

“Ori, calm down.”

“ _Calm down!_ ” I shout. “You killed someone! Ithal, you killed someone!”

Ithal seized my shoulders, nails digging into my shouler. “Ori, damn it, _calm the fuck down_!” he shouted. My mouth closes. His grip lessens. “We need to go to Kaz first.”

“But the guards—”

“Will not care that we were attacked first,” Ithal reminds me. “They _never_ care, so we go to Kaz, see what he has to say and figure out what to do from there.”

 I don’t know if Kaz is really the best person to go to. I want to go home, but…what would Dori do if he knew Ithal killed someone? Even if it was in my defense?

“Okay,” I say. My voice is trembling as much as my body does. Ithal grabs my hand and we leave the fountain. I glance behind, staring at the corpse. It feels wrong to leave him there, but there isn’t anything we can really do now.

Is there?

It’s nearly dawn when we find Kaz. He is laying on a bench, staring at the sky, arms behind his head. He senses us approach and turns to look at us, a grin on his face.

“About time, Ghivasha,” he said when he spotted us. His grin dies when he notices me and the blood. “Ithal?” He jumps up, staring at the blood. “What happened?”

“We were attacked,” Ithal said, his voice breaking. “They tried to kill Ori. I…” he held the knife out. Kaz stared at the knife. He removed his cloak, setting it on the bench. He took the knife and set it down on his cloak before pulling at Ithal’s tunic.

“Take it off,” he said. “You can’t go around with a blood all over you.” Ithal obeyed, taking Kaz’s tunic instead. Kaz ripped his cloak, the torn piece wrapped around the dagger. “Go wash your hands, Âzyungel.” Ithal obeys.

Kaz kneels down, demanding to know what happened, why I’m wet, and so on. I tell him, trying to hold back more tears. Kaz surprises me with a kiss to my forehead. “You’re okay, mîmún. You’re okay.” He pulls my tunic off and wraps his torn cloak around my shoulders. He reaches for his belt and hands me a dagger. “Keep this with you, Ori.” It’s a simple steel knife with a wood handle and sheath.

I nod, still staring at it. “O-okay.” I put it in my pocket.

Ithal returns and Kaz hands him a purse. “Nicked this earlier. You and Ori need to get out of Ered Luin. There’s an old forge-house outside Belegost. Hide there. I’ll come for you when this is over, Ghivasha,” he promises, kissing Ithal. The many balconies and windows letting in fresh air and light shows that dawn in fast approaching…

“Ithal, take the thieves’ south route,” Kaz said. “Avoid the roads.” Ithal grabs my hand.

“I love you,” he said. Kaz smiles.

“And I love you. Now, seriously, you two need to get out of here.” Ithal pulled me away toward a wall, pushing on the stone until it moved, pulling me inside. He grabbed a torch from the ground and lit it from one of the lights hanging on the wall, handing it to me.

As we trek through this dank, stuffy cavern, I can only think of one thing:

I shouldn’t have run away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Face the Truth" by Unsun
> 
> ~Khuzdul~
> 
> Ghivasha=treasure
> 
> Âzyungel=love of loves/sweetheart/etc.
> 
> Mîmún=little man/kiddo


	5. Fingernails

Never reaching what I want to reach  
Never being who I want to be  
Blaming me when I fall and fail  
All my dreams splintering  
Under my fingernails

* * *

 

He lit the furnace and wraps Kaz’s cloak around my shoulders. We traveled nearly all day through the South Route, barely stopping for anything. Ithal told me to stay in the forge as he went to the market. I was reluctant to let him go and tried to convince him to let me go instead, but he wouldn’t hear of it.

So I stayed and he returned before I had gathered the courage to disobey him. He carried in his hands a basket filled with goat cheese, dried fruit and jerky, bread loaves, and two bottles of ale. He also has a bottle of vinegar, linen towels, and some new clothes for us.

“Come here,” he said, setting the basket down to retrieve the vinegar and a comb.

I sit in front of him and try not to cry as he unwinds my braids and combs my hair. He wraps a linen towel around my shoulders and rubs the vinegar into the roots down to the tips.

“There’s a stream a little walk from here we can wash in later,” he told me as he unfurled in own braids and combed out his hair. Then he also rubbed vinegar into his hair.

Kaz is not going to be happy with that. He loves Ithal’s hair.

After an hour, we go to the stream and Ithal washes the excess vinegar out of our hair and then adds oil to mine before combing it out and again and redoing the braids.

“There,” he said. “Hardly recognizable.” He chuckled. “Blond works for you.” He repeated the process with his own hair, but the braids he gave us both are different. “We could pass as brothers.”

“We already are,” I remind him. “Blood bonds are often frayed.”

 Ithal doesn’t respond for a long time. “I got you some parchment and charcoal,” he said, tying the last braid in his hair. “It’s not good quality, but it should keep you from getting too bored.” I thank him.

#

We count the days that pass by drawing on the stone with the charcoal Ithal bought me. No one comes looking. No one notices that we’re living in the old forge. It’s surprisingly very stable for something so old and the only reason I can think of for it to be out of commission is that the furnace door is broken.

I do not know why no one bothered to fix it. It’s an easy thing to fix. Or perhaps the last owner of the forge passed away before he could fix it.

I drew most days, and sometimes I’d write. On the second day, Ithal went back to the market to buy more food for us. He did so again on the fourth. When he wasn’t around, he’d hum songs under his breath. Most of them I didn’t recognize, other times, I realized they were lullabies or love songs.

I guess he missed Kaz.

The morning of the fifth day, when we were coming back from the bath, we noticed someone in the forge. Ithal told me to keep the dagger ready. Just in case our visitor was unfriendly. He was wearing a cloak and squatting, as though looking for something.

Ithal pressed his dagger into the back of his neck. The Dwarf raised his gloved hands. “Who are you?”

“Well, I’m glad to see you too, but I was hoping for a kiss instead,” he said, turning his head just a bit so we could see his face. Ithal lowered the dagger and returned it to his sheath.

“Kaz,” he said.

“About that kiss.”

Ithal shook his head. “You sneak over here, scare us out of our wits, and demand a _kiss_?”

Kaz grinned. “If it’s not too much trouble,” he said cheekily turning around. His grin died. “Your hair,” he whispered.

“Had to disguise ourselves somehow,” Ithal said, crossing his arms.

“And just changing your braids wasn’t enough?” Kaz asked, running his fingers through the gold strands of Ithal’s hair. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s beautiful, Ghivasha, but I _preferred_ it black.”

“It’ll grow out,” Ithal assured him, kissing Kaz’s cheek. “And given some time, it’ll be black again.”

“ _How_?” Do you intend to cut it?!” Kaz asked, a measure of horror in his voice.

Ithal shook his head. I went outside, letting them have their discussion while I wrote another poem. Kaz clears his throat, and I looked up, hiding the poem against my chest. He hands me a letter.

“It’s from Nori,” he said. I thank him, taking the letter. “Come on, we’re going to town for lunch.”

I follow him and Ithal into the town, keeping my head down and close to Ithal. At the pub, Kaz orders our food while I read the letter.

Dori told the guards that we fled to the Grey Havens. The Kilmel are furious and demanding retribution. It’s possible that there might be a Dumúhúrud soon. Nori urges us to come home soon.

I don’t want to go home. What if Dori’s angrier than before? What if he kicks me out?

“Ori?”

I look at Ithal. Kaz returns. “I’m fine,” I lie, folding the letter again. “They want me to come home.”

“We _are_ going home,” Kaz said. “The guards aren’t looking for either of you anymore.”

“No! I _can’t_ ,” I cry. Kaz stares at me and I avert my gaze.

“Your brothers are worried,” he said. “And you’ve been gone long enough, don’t you think?” The maid comes by, setting our food in front of us.

“We need to clear the forge out first and kill the fire,” Ithal reminds him. “Then we can go home.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” I ask. Kaz rolls his eyes and Ithal arches a brow. I slump in my chair, eating my bread roll. It tastes stale.

“So clear out the forge, then we leave,” Kaz agrees and we head back after we eat. Each step I take feels like lead.

Dori is going to kill me.

“What’s that?” Ithal said. “Smoke?”

“The hell?” Kaz mutters. I look up and gasp.

“My papers!”

“ _Ori_ ,” Kaz groans.

“No! That’s not it! I think they caught fire and—”

“Well of course they did. That’s what paper does—”

“ _You’re not listening!_ That’s probably what caused it!”

“Even if it is,” Ithal sighed, “there’s very little we can do about it.”

A scream from inside the forge made us pause and we raced over. We heard it again, icy horror sinking into my guts. Someone’s inside.

I ran to the forge.

“Ori!” Ithal shouted, following me into the flames.

The smoke burned my eyes and throat. I shouted, demanding that whoever was in here to yell again. They did guiding me closer.

Two children were huddled in the corner, crying and coughing. Ithal hefted one of them in his arms and I took the other before heading for the entrance. Once we were close enough to the entrance, Ithal told the kids to get out.

“Ori, go! I’ll be right behind—”

The roof creaked above us. Ithal shoved me out of the forge as it collapsed. Ithal screamed.

I’m frozen in my fear.

Kaz runs by me into the forge.

Guards pull me up, speaking to me, talking, but I don’t understand what they’re saying. My mind is reeling. _Ithal is hurt. Ithal might die. Ithal is hurt._

#

Kaz is going to be fine. 

And so will I.

Our wounds will heal and the worse I’m dealing with is smoke inhalation, but that’s only a side effect of not being used to forge smoke. Most blacksmiths suffer from it and they manage just fine.

Ithal, though, his burns are bad, but they’ll heal.

His hair was burnt off and possibly permanently damaged, but because he lost it trying to save lives, the healers say he should be able to get tattoos to commemorate his bravery and successes instead. However, his back has been broken and the burns were more severe on his back and legs from when the roof caved in.

Kaz has not left his side as soon as the healers said he was well enough to get up. I would be with them too, but Kaz has seemed so broken that I can’t bring myself to impose unless Ithal was asking for me.

We’ve been here two days.

After the first, I was restless and get out of bed just to annoy the healers and have something to do. After a few times, they gave up and allowed me to wander, so long as I was at my bed when it was time to eat or to take medicine.

While wandering the healing house after the noon hour, a healer calls to me and I turn around. Behind him are my brothers. My heart is hammering in my chest and my head buzzes.

Nori strides over to me, pulling me into a strong embrace. I hug him back, hiding my face in his tunic. He releases me and I’m pulled into another hug by Dori.

His hands bunch my tunic and his shoulders shake with each heaving breath. Drops of water drench my shoulder. It’s frightening and I can’t relax. Dori presses his cheek to mine, asking me to come home, saying that he’s sorry and that he was worried and that he’s glad I’m all right.

_It’s difficult for a young adult to raise a Dwarfling. That Dori took the challenge head on and sacrificed so much for you and Nori shows those who know you three how much he loves you both. Never think that Dori hates you when he’s given up so much for you. He wants to see you succeed, so he pushes you a little harder than some would._

Grun may be right, but I still don’t want to go home. I know I have to, but I don’t want to. I don’t _want_ to go back to a place where I’m constantly walking on a metaphorical minefield, just waiting for when I might make Dori explode again.

I mumble apologies of my own into Dori’s tunic. He pets my hair and kisses my cheek. I should be excited to go home now that I’m with my brothers again. But I’m not.

We’ll be staying a little while, just to make sure that Ithal can be moved back home safely.

Nori tells me about the plans for the Dumúhúrud. Since it was planned on, there’d been a dwindling of fights between Kurdâlh and Kilmel after a surge of battles all over Ered Luin.

“It may be best for you to stay home that night,” he said. “But something tells me you won’t.”

I shook my head. “I want to fight. They’ve tormented me too much and they’ve tried to kill me _twice_ ,” I remind him. Nori’s eyes flashed. “The night I ran away…that’s why Ithal…”

“We guessed something like that happened,” Nori said, lighting his pipe. “Come on, I’ll get you a biscuit. Just don’t tell Dori.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Khuzdul~
> 
> Ghivasha=treasure
> 
> Dumúhúrud=battle/rumble
> 
> Nadadith=little brother
> 
> "Fingernails, by Skillet


	6. My Skin

I've been treated so wrong  
I've been treated so long  
As if I'm becoming untouchable  
  
Contempt loves the silence  
It thrives in the dark  
With fine winding tendrils  
That strangle the heart

* * *

I rap my knuckles on the door. Kaz turns to me and at first I thought he’d kill me until I realized there was something dull in his eyes. I swallowed.

“Here to see Ithal?” Kaz asked. “He’s sleeping, but if you want to stay until he wakes up…”

I couldn’t believe my ears. _Kaz wants me to stay?_ “You’re not mad at me?”

Kaz doesn’t answer, turning back to look at Ithal. I sit on the other side of the bed across from Kaz. Ithal’s breathing is labored and his skin isn’t as bad as it was a few days ago.

It’s odd seeing him without his hair.

“The healers are doing what they can,” Kaz said. “But they say without Elven medicine…even _with_ it, if he survived, he won’t be able to walk again.” He grips Ithal’s hand a little tighter.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “If I just remembered to—”

“You weren’t in the forge,” Kaz sighs. “Ithal and I were. We should have killed the fire before we left, but…”

“It was my papers.”

“It might have been, but Ori there’s no proof that it was your papers that started the fire.”

“But—”

“ _Stop_ trying to blame yourself for what happened, all of us could have done something to prevent it. But it’s too late. What’s the point in thinking on it?”

I lower my eyes to my hands. “Nori wants to know if you’ll fight in the Dumúhúrud.”

“I haven’t decided. I might,” Kaz manages to smirk at me. “Just to get back at the bastards who attacked my Ghivasha.”

“I’m going to. I’m tired of them tormenting me just because I’m smaller than the others.”

Kaz snorts. “How’s Dori taking it?”

Dori and I had nearly gotten into another yelling match about it.

He looked like he _wanted_ to yell at me, but despite how red his face got, he didn’t shout. Instead, he took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose.

 _“I don’t want you to fight,” he said._ _“They tried to kill you and if Ithal hadn’t been there, you might be dead now. I’m not trying to impugn your courage, Ori. I’m just trying to protect you. Look, no one blames you for what happened to Ithal. It’s not your fault. I blame_ them _. They didn’t have to attack you two, but they did and you ran. If they had just left you alone, none of this would have happened. If I let you fight, I’m not doing my job as your brother and guardian.”_

_“Dori, what happened to Ithal is exactly why I want to fight. I’m tired of them pushing me around!”_

_“I know.”_

_“Please, nadad, let me fight.”_

_Dori pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking and probably fighting off a headache._

_“All right,” he said. “You can fight. Ori, we agreed not to have weapons at the Dumúhúrud, but I want you to fight as dirty as you possibly can.”_

_“Okay.”_

Kaz whistles. “That’s new.”

I shrug. “I guess he’s trying…” Trying to what? Be better? How long is _that_ going to last?

“When is it?”

“In a few days,” I said. “Long enough to get Ithal back home, I think. Dori’s working on it. He doesn’t think it is right for him to die among the sick and dying. Something like that.”

Kaz kisses Ithal’s hand. He still sleeps. I feel like I should say something but I don’t know _what_ to say to make this better. Maybe there’s nothing that _can_ be said. It’s definitely the better option, I suppose.

I pull my legs up to my chin and hug them.

_Please, Mahal, we need a miracle._

#

Moving Ithal back home took quite a bit of maneuvering.

Dori and I moved him and Ithal to one of the rooms we had on the first floor. Nori and Kaz stayed with Ithal while he was brought home and Dori and I returned early to fix the room.

The bed sheets were changed, the window shutters opened and Dori bought a couple healing stones now on the window sill.

We did everything we could to make the house comfortable for Ithal when he, Nori, and Kaz finally returned. Nori and Dori would make his favorite foods. I’d sometimes bring a book from the library and read to him. Kaz never left his side.

Every day in the afternoon, a healer that was an old friend of Dori’s would come to check on him.

Most of the time, Ithal slept.

When he was awake, he was easy to upset or anger.

It was the hopelessness of the situation, Dori said, and Ithal was having trouble coping with the changes that came from losing his ability to walk. If he lived, he’d never be able to walk again. But the healer didn’t have hope that Ithal would be that lucky.

Kaz was just as volatile. He was always volatile, but it was worse than usual. It was frightening to see him and Ithal fight. There was a wrongness to it.

Worse were the times when Kaz was trying to keep calm or trying to clam Ithal. It was supposed to be the other way around. It worked better the other way around. I didn’t want to be around when they fought so I spent more time than I used to at the library.

Once, I came home to see Dori trying to comfort a weeping Kaz.

All of this was wrong.

Kaz was the strong one, the impenetrable one.

I’ve never seen him cry before.

I didn’t like it.

#

“Oi, Kurdâl.”

A Kilmel cut off my path.

I glared at him. “We aren’t supposed to fight until the Dumúhúrud,” I remind him.

He held his hands up. “I’m not here to fight. I wanted to talk.”

“Why?”

“The guy your friend killed, he was my brother.”

“Then you should hate me as much—”

“I don’t hate you,” he said. “Nor do I hate the one who killed him. No point in hating someone when they’re on their…I heard he’s dying, so…”

“Depends on your definition of dying,” I said, crossing my arms.

He stared at me.

“What?”

“You’re…you’re really just a bairn,” he said. The blood in his face slowly drained. “You’re a child.”

“I’m _thirty-nine_!” I snapped, crossing my arms. “I’m almost of age, even if I am small for it.”

The Kilmel rubbed the back of his neck. “At least hear me out?”

I glared at him and sighed. “Fine.” We go to a tavern and stay close to the door. I almost don’t let him buy me lunch, but he threw in something about honor and so I had to let him.

“Dargos was the eldest,” he said. “So there was always pressure on him to do well, but that pressure sometimes just…gets to you and you need an outlet, to do something insane just to cope. Fighting was that outlet.”

“More like torturing,” I snap. “Killing. How many others were killed by him, I wonder?”

A maid approached us and gave us our food.

“He never killed before,” he said, though he never said anything to refute that he tortured. He stood. “On behalf of my late brother, Dargos son of Gorem, I, Hargos son of Gorem, wish to apologize for his crimes against you,” he said, ending with a bow.

I pick at the bread in my hands. I know I should accept because it’s the honorable thing to do. Accept it and move on. Let it be in the past.

But I don’t want to. Why should I forgive my tormentors?

Hargos straightened, sitting down again. “Would you prefer it if hair was given to you? He is dead. I will bear the shame if I must, but please accept my apology.”

“Why? There’s nothing you can do that will make me forgive you.”

“You are angry, I understand that.”

I scoff. “Angry?” I shake my head, leaning back in my seat. “If I was angry, then an apology would be enough. He tried to scalp me. He tried to drown me. I don’t have to forgive anything.”

Hargos massaged his temple, he looked pained. With a resigned sigh, he reached for his belt and pulled out a dagger. He gripped one of his braids: the one of his family line. He cut it. A couple other braids of honor were also removed. One, a braid of courtship, remained. He handed me the locks.

“Are you satisfied now?”

I stare at them and nod. “This is enough.”

He sheathed his dagger and left some coins before leaving.

The inn was silent and I felt as though all eyes were onto me. I took the braids and went home. I walked like a drunk, even though not a drop of ale touched my lips. My hands shook and my head buzzed. It was so hard to keep my emotions back.

I entered the house and approached the furnace.

“Ori?”

I look at  Dori. “Yes?”

“Are you all right? You look a little pale.”

I open my fist, showing him the braids. I tell him about the conversation Hargos and I had. I thought he’d be livid, but he just looked disappointed and tired.

“Were his brother alive, it would be his braids that should be taken. Ori, you had no right to demand that price of him. He can’t have been much older than you.”

“Well, someone had to pay it!” I shouted.

Dori arched a brow, displeased.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m tired and I’m sick of it all. I just…I wanted some sort of retribution.”

“You couldn’t wait until the Dumúhúrud?”

I look at the braids in my hand. “I suppose I could not.” I open the furnace door and toss the braids inside and close the door, locking it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "My Skin," by Natalie Merchant


	7. Falling Inside the Black

You were my source of strength  
I've traded everything  
That I love for this one thing  
(Stranded in the offering)  
Don't leave me here like this  
Can't hear me scream from the abyss  
And now I wish for you my desire

* * *

The Dumúhúrud is by the fountain. The torches light our path and Nori built a bomb fire in the fountain, scorching the stone.

My hands shake too much to wrap them properly, so Nori does it for me. “No shame in going home now,” he said. Dori squeezed my shoulders.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said, meeting Nori’s stare.

“Then stick close,” Dori said. “And fight dirty.”

Grun and several other Kurdâlh arrive. Many bow to Dori, mumbling _at your service_ and calling him _Khulzhel_. One did not bow, but held his hand out.

“Dori Khulzhel,” he said. Dori grabbed his forearm, giving it a firm shake.

“Thank you for coming, Falgrim.”

Falgrim nodded and looked at me. He frowned. “What’s your kid brother doing here?”

“He wanted to fight.”

“Can he?”

“We shall see,” Dori said.

The Kilmel arrive, approaching us like wolves would sheep, pushing and shoving each other. What they’d get are lions. They laughed, shouted taunts at us. We simply watched. I couldn’t understand _how_ they could laugh and joke when we were practically at war. As they approached, the shouts and laughs and whoops died down.

One of the Kilmel approached Dori.

“Hello, Dori.”

“Lokri,” Dori sneered.

Nori pulled me back as a circle formed around the two leaders.

Dori and Lokri sneered at each other, taking in the other’s size and weighing their chances at a win. Dori has the bonus of seeming weaker than he is because of his smaller height compared to some of the others, but at the same time, Lokri, I feel, is out of his league. Dori could easily tear them apart on his own if he decided to.

A shout from outside the circle called our attention away as Kaz ran toward us. Lokri took the chance to punch Dori and the Dumúhúrud began. Chaos erupted. So much, there was little to do but look out for yourself.

A fist collided with my face and I fell down. I blocked, slamming my foot into my opponents groin and my fist into his cheek. I grabbed his hair and broke his nose against my knee.

Another tackled me to the ground, ramming his fist into my stomach. Someone tackled him off me and I scrambled to my feet. I noticed a swing coming at me and I ducked, slamming my fist into his ribs until he was down, ramming my foot into his abdomen again and again.

I was seized from behind and I kicked, twisting around so I can latch my teeth onto his arm. He cries out and we fall. I scramble away, seeing Nori bashing his head into the wall. The Kilmel elbows Nori’s ribs and I manage to kick him in the jaw.

Kaz bumps into me.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” I say. A Kilmel sneaks up on us. “Look out!”

Kaz turns around, grabbing the Kilmel around the neck and slamming him down onto the stone floor. I look around. The Kilmel have dwindled, many are running away, bloodied and scratched.

“Ori!” Dori shouts, finding us and cupping my face. “Are you okay?”

 “I’m fine,” I assure him. “I’m fine, Dori.” He pats my cheek.

“You fought well,” he said. I grin, elated by the praise. He left me with Kaz, shouting for Nori. Kaz sits on the ground, running his hand through his hair.

“Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not fucking okay,” he growled. “I’m far from okay, but I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”He lowers his hand and reaches into a pocket, pulling out a braided lock of hair, the ends frayed and tied with a leather string to keep from unraveling.

“Is that…”

“Ithal’s?” he asked. “Yes.”

“I thought all his hair was burned off.”

“He protected this one as best he could in the fire. Told me to give them the wrath of Mahal for him and gave it to me.” Kaz’s breath hitched. Nori patted his shoulder.

“Let’s go tell him we won,” he said. “Yeah?”

Kaz looked up at him, blinking. He nodded, getting back up to his feet.

“Dori, Grun, are you coming?” Nori shouted.

Dori and Falgrim bowed to each other and we walked back home. Nori and Dori stood on either side of me, their arms around my shoulders. Nori began singing a bawdy song, Grun joined in. I laughed and Dori snapped at them to shut up around impressionable youths, but Kaz was silent, striding ahead of us.

We arrived at home and knocked on Ithal’s door. Kaz enters first, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“We won, Ghivasha,” he said. “We beat them. We won.” Ithal didn’t respond. He didn’t even shift in his sleep. “Ithal?” Kaz touched his hand.

Grun whispered to Dori, who sighed. “Ori, go to the living room, would you?”

“Why?” I ask. “What’s wrong?” I look at Ithal again. _Oh_ , I think. _Oh no._

“Ithal, sweetheart, wake up,” Kaz begged uselessly, voice thick. He pressed his head to Ithal’s chest, weeping.

Grun leads me into the living room. I sat on the couch beside him, shucking my boots off and pulling my knees to my chin. I hid my face in my knees and tears spilled down my cheeks. Nori joined us, sitting on the other side of me and embraced me. Dori entered last, lighting a candle and whispering prayers as he covered the mirrors.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that, crying, singing, and praying, but it felt so long. When Kaz emerged, he spared us no words, running out the door.

I turn to Dori. “Shouldn’t we—”

“No,” he said. “Leave him be. He’ll come back when he’s ready.”

“He’ll need time,” Grun said. “I can’t begin to imagine what he must be feeling.”

“No, I suppose not,” Nori sighed, squeezing my shoulder.

#

Kaz didn’t come home the next night and Dori grew worried. Even if Kaz didn’t want to come home, a message would be nice to let us know he was all right.

Nothing of the sort came until it was almost midnight when a raven arrived at our window, alerting us that Kaz was in trouble, running from the guard in the marketplace.

Nori, Dori, and I went to find him, leaving Grun to deal with the priest.

We were outside the market when we saw him racing toward us. Three guards chased him down, shouting at him to stop.

“KAZ!!!” I shouted, wavng my hands. “OVER HERE!!!”

“Ori, no!” Dori shouted as I ran toward him.

One of the guards stopped and threw his weapon. It embedded in Kaz’s back with a sickening _thunk_. I skidded to a halt and Kaz fell to the ground, skin scraped on the stone. Blood drenched his clothes and dripped down his back. His arm shook as he lifted the braid to his lips and kissed it before he stilled.

“Ori!” Dori shouted, grabbing my shoulders, pulling me away from Kaz’s body. “Damn it, boy, why do you _never listen_ to me!”

The guards approached.

“It’s a kid!”

One gripped the ax and wrenched it free from Kaz’s back. I stared at the weapon and the hand the gripped it, eyes trailing up until they met the face beneath the helm. The guard stroked his beard, frowning at Kaz’s corpse.

“You killed him,” I whisper. The guard looked at me. “ _You killed him!!_ ”

“Ori!” Dori locked my arms behind my back, dragging me back.

“I’ll kill you!!” I shout. “I’ll never stop hating you!!”

“Ori, that’s enough!” Dori bellowed, pulling me into his embrace. “That’s enough,” he said softly. “It’s over.” I hid my face in his chest, unable to stop the wail that wrangled its way out of my throat.

#

Kaz and Ithal were buried together in the cemetery beneath the market. The funeral was small, just those of us who knew them and called them friends or brothers.

The days following were a haze. I immersed myself in the books I loved so much. It was harder than I thought to process the words.

One day, Dori left a pair of sheers out. I picked them up, running my thumb across the blades. I grabbed a fistful of my hair and brought the sheers to it, listening to the _snip_ of hair being cut. I dropped the locks and grabbed another fistful of hair, dropping it with what was left. Then another and another before at last I set the sheers down and collected my hair, heading to the furnace to burn them.

Something crashed to the ground and I gasped, turning around looking at Dori and feeling very much like a cornered mouse.

“Dori?” Nori called, coming from downstairs. He spied me and slowed, the same gobsmacked expression on his face that was now on Dori’s.

“What have you done?!” Nori shouted.

I avert my gaze, whimpering. Dori walked over, taking the pile of hair in my hands and threw it in the furnace. He took my hands in his.

“I know you were close to them,” he said. “So I will allow this for now. However, when you are ready to talk about what happened, you _will_ grow your hair out again.”

I nod my agreement. Dori embraced me, rubbing my back as I wept.

None of it was fair and all of it just fell apart too quickly for it to really be comprehensible. As the days passed on I realized that maybe Kaz might have wanted to die, unable to let go of a future with Ithal when the one thing he really lived for was truly ripped away from him.

I hardly believe that I will ever be able understand the devotion Kaz bore for Ithal. I doubt I ever will understand it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Falling Inside the Black" by Skillet
> 
> ~Khuzdul~
> 
> Khulzhel=The male of males


	8. I Will Not Bow

Now the dark begins to rise  
Save your breath, it's far from over  
Leave the lost and dead behind  
Now's your chance to run for cover

* * *

~Rivendell, Present Day~

Only the fire broke the silence in the company. The elders stared at their hands as though unable to process what they had heard. Gloin was ashen, as was Thorin, who kept glancing at his nephews as if he expected them to reveal something he didn’t know. I couldn’t see Dwalin’s face. Nor did I want to. Bilbo stared at the flames. Kili hid his face in his knees and Fili rubbed his back.

“So…Kurdâlh are not some radical group or terrorists?” Balin asked.

“No,” Dori said. “Most of them are just kids. Orphans, abused, runaways. Many a Dwarf says they cherish children because children are rarely born, but that’s almost a lie. Many thieves in Ered Luin are teenagers. Most of them join a Kurdâlh group so that they can have something similar to a family.”

“Depending on the gang you get into, you’re usually well set.”

“What of Grun?” Bilbo asked. “I thought he might have joined the Company.”

“He’s taking care of the gang in Dori’s place,” Nori said, glaring at the Company. “So, now that you know the truth, do you get that the only terrorists here are _you_ —”

“ _Nori!_ ” Dori snapped.

“What? They’re _Kilmel_!” he spat. “They _are_ Kilmel! They are ignorant of what their sons and daughters have done to us because of their privilege and wealth—”

“Now wait just a minute, Lad!”

“Don’t go lumping us all together!”

I stood and left. I didn’t want to be pulled into whatever fight would happen now. I just wanted to go to bed. Be alone if I could. I walked with his head bowed, staring at his feet until he found a corner to sit in, sliding to the ground and hiding his face in his knees.

I felt a presence sit beside him.

“Dori, I want to be alone right now.”

“None of us should be wandering in this place. And your brother is still with the others.” I looked up at Dwalin, glaring.

“I didn’t go far.”

“Father than comfortable,” Dwalin said. “I know you’re still angry at me, Lad. I didn’t intend to kill your friend that night.”

“So I’m supposed to believe it was just an accident?!” I shouted. I ran my hand through my hair. “I’m not mad at you anymore. But I still resent you. It doesn’t matter at this point _why_ you killed Kaz. All that matters at this point is that you _did_ kill him. Look, I really don’t want to talk to anyone right now and you can tell my brothers I’m fine. Just _leave me alone_.”

“Fine,” Dwalin said. “I’ll let your brothers know. But, Ori, if it wasn’t any Kurdâlh who blew up the mine, it means that someone else _did_. Do you think someone could _use_ your gang or another to fulfill such ends?”

“It’s possible, but it wouldn’t be my gang. But it’s still rather unlikely. Each gang’s like a family unit and the leader’s usually the replacement parent. You’ve seen Dori. Many leaders are like him, one way or another. But I don’t think it was a Kurdâlh gang. Likely they were just…there or they’re easier to blame.”

Dwalin hummed and left me there. I pulled out my dagger. It couldn’t have been a Kurdâlh gang that was responsible for the mine bombing, of that, I’m sure of.

I groaned, massaging my head. My fingers brushed against my hair. I’m almost afraid to grow it out. At the same time, I think it’d be nice to have long hair again…to at last style it in _Kurdâl_ fashion like my brothers.

“Ori,” Kili called. “We’re going to be leaving early in the morning. Best come back and get some sleep.”

He approached. Kili wrapped his arm around mine. “I’m sorry about your friends. If you aren’t against it, would you mind being friends with me and Fili?”

Kili was too kindhearted to be joking. The offer was sincere and hopeful. I stared at him, unsure how to translate the offer. But it _was_ Kili.

“Sure,” I said. “I would like that.”

The companions were still glaring at each other, the fight still heavily on their minds, as they drifted to sleep. I climbed into his bedroll which Dori already made for him while he was gone. I thanked him and lay my head on the pillow, hoping sleep would come.

It would not.

#

Dwalin insisted on being between Bilbo and me when the storm hit. Rocks slid down and every time they pressed into the wall, Dwalin would grab our jackets, keeping us grounded. I _hated_ it. I could protect myself. I had been in a number of fights since the Dumúhúrud, both between gangs and Kilmel and on my own.

I wasn’t a little boy anymore, for Mahal’s sake!

“Bless my beard!” Bofur shouted. “The legends are true!” I had to look hard to see it, but my eyes bugged the moment I realized what Bofur spoke of.

“Take cover, you fool!” Thorin bellowed over to the rain. Bifur pulled him back as stones fell again. The rocks they stood on shook, dislodging themselves from mountain.

If not for the repetitive loop of _fuck, we’re on a stone giant, Mahal save us_ running through my head, I think I might throw up at any given moment. The wind whipped my hair and the water stung…

When Dwalin tossed my and Bilbo back onto the mountain, I almost lost his nose on the rocks.

“Are you all right, lad?” Dwalin asked, clapping my shoulder.

“I’m fine,” I said, almost buckling under the weight of Dwalin’s hand.

“Where’s Bilbo?” Bofur asked. They searched, trying to find him in the dark rain.

“There!” Nori shouted. Bilbo dangled from the rocks, focusing on holding onto the slippery ledge. We reached for his hand, urging him to grab on. But we were too far from him. Thorin jumped down, pushing Bilbo up. Dwalin caught Thorin before he fell.

“I thought we almost lost our burglar,” Balin sighed.

“He’s been lost ever since he left home,” Thorin shouted, glaring at Bilbo. My blood ran cold and I turned to Bilbo. “He _never_ should have come!” The Hobbit bowed his head and Dori pushed him along until they found a cave to take shelter in.

Thorin ordered against a fire and they set up camp.

“Ori,” Dori called, “Come here, a moment.” I obeyed, sitting in front of his brother and letting him untangle my braids. “Are you all right?”

“I’m angry on Bilbo’s behalf.”

“We all are,” he said. “But there is very little we can do about Thorin, I’m afraid. So I’ll tell you what I told Nori: don’t do anything stupid. This venture is dangerous enough without you two causing trouble.”

“Since when do I cause trouble?”

“You _always_ cause trouble,” Dori said, smacking the back of my head lightly. I glared at him, rubbing the offended spot. “The king cares for him,” Dori continued. “He is trying, but the pressure of the quest and the dangers we’ve already faced are weighing him down, making him irritable.”

“Like you?”

“Well, I like to think I’ve gotten a little _more_ control than that, but yes.”

“Nah,” I smirk at him. “You’re worse.”

“Shut it,” Dori snapped, pulling particularly hard on a tangle and making me yelp. “Get some sleep, Ori.”

“So long as you do too,” I say to him. Dori chuckled. Once the braids were done, I went into my bedroll and drifted to sleep.

_The forge burned. Fire licked the stones. Ithal and I were shoving the children out. The beams groaned and cracked. Ithal shoved me out._

_He screamed—_

_I’m falling._

“ORI!!”

I opened my eyes and tried to reach for my brothers with no avail. We landed in a basket of some kind—it was made of _bones_. We tried to get up and figure out what was had happened when the Goblins came, shoving us and pushing us forward, we tried to fight them off, but they whipped us with chains.

They pushed us, shoved us, all the while singing a grotesque song about many… _uncomfortable_ things.

They line us up in front of the largest of the goblins, who peers at us with beady eyes.

“Who is it that dares to come armed into my kingdom? Spies? Thieves? _Assassins?!_ ”

“Dwarves, your malevolenceness,” one of them said. “We found them on the front porch.”

 _Porch?_ I stop myself from snorting. Some porch. The Great Goblin demanded that we be searched. They took my slingshot and dagger, tossing it into a pile in front of us. The Goblin began demanding that we tell them what we’re doing and why we’ve come. Not one of us speaks.

“Very well. If they won’t talk, we’ll make them squawk! Bring out the wrangler! Bring out the bone breaker! Start with the youngest!”

He pointed at me. My blood ran cold and my eyes bugged. Nori and Dori tried to shield me from the Goblins reaching for me.

“Wait!” Thorin shouted, stepping forward. The Goblin chuckled.

 “Well, well,” he said. “If it isn’t Thorin son of Thrain son of Thror, King under the Mountain,” he bowed mockingly. “Oh! But I’m forgetting you don’t _have_ a mountain. Which makes you _nobody_ really.”

Thorin sneered at him, and said nothing.

“I know someone who will pay a pretty price for your head. An old enemy of yours: a pale Orc astride a white Warg.”

“Azog the Defiler died in battle long ago!” Thorin shouted.

“So you think his defiling days are done, do you?” the goblin jeered. He had one of his goblins send a message to the Orcs. Whether it was Azog or not, who could tell?

Either way, I’ll be glad to be out of here.

Considering we get out here…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I Will Not Bow" Breaking Benjamin


	9. The Outside

What if I stand ashamed  
What if I can't let go of the pain  
What if I have something to lose  
What if I've got nothing left to prove  
I replace this life you stole  
I embrace the world I know  
What if you were always wrong  
And if I said I knew it all along

* * *

They jostle us, taunt us, and again singing terrible songs about torture and death. One’s even got into his head to hump Dori’s leg. Dori gives him a well deserved kick.

If we get out of here, he’ll be burning those trousers as soon as he gets a new pair. It’s what I’d do.

Some of the Goblins were pilfering through our weapons. One of them grabbed Thorin’s Elfish blade and screeched. The song ended and the Goblin King demanded our deaths.

A flash of white light blinds us and there is silence.

“Take up arms!” Gandalf demanded. “Fight!”

We scramble for the weapons and I manage to embed my knife in the throat of a Goblin.

“Ori,” Dwalin shouted, tossing me his war hammer. “You’ll do more damage with that than with your little butter knife.”

I snarl at him, but I can’t say he’s wrong. So I put the knife away and swing the hammer into the head of another Goblin. We race through the caves, slaying as many goblins as we can.

By the time we escape the mountain, the sun is setting.

Gandalf counted them, making sure they were all together.

“Where’s Bilbo?” he said, drawing attention to that we, somehow, lost a Hobbit.

I’m almost too tired to care. If anyone cares, I was about to be tortured. I’m entitled to be a little uncaring for a bit at this point.

But yet again, Thorin slanders Bilbo. And perhaps he’s right, maybe Bilbo did leave us for home. But I don’t think it would be because he missed home.

“Actually, I’m right here,” Bilbo said, smiling at Thorin.

“How’d you get past the Goblins?”

Bilbo shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“What does it matter?” Gandalf said.

“It matters,” Thorin said. “I want to know why you came back.”

Bilbo stared at him, his smile faltering a little bit. He shrugged again.

“Well, you are right. I do miss my home, but that’s because that’s where I belong. And I came back because I want to help you get your home back if I can.”

Thorin looks like he has something to say, but the howl cutting through the air silences us and we run as Wargs run us down. We find ourselves on a cliff and begin climbing up the trees as the Wargs surround us before being joined by a band of Orcs.

At the head of the hunting party was a tall, albino Orc decorated in scars and bearing an iron claw stuck through his right stump of an arm.

He shouts in his foul, native tongue, sending the Wargs after us, we jumped from tree to tree as they were uprooted until we all gathered in the last tree at the very edge of the cliff.

Gandalf set a pine cone on fire and threw it at the Wargs, forcing them to back off. He lit more, passing them down to us to use as ammunition. The grass and wood was dry, and easily set ablaze. The Wargs yelped, backing off and the tree creaked under our weight, cutting our celebration short as it fell.

I lost balance and fell, grabbing onto Dori’s legs. Dori groaned under the additional weight. I’d feel bad if not for the fact that there’s _no fucking possible way_ for either of us to survive that drop if we fall.

Have you ever been so terrified that your mind goes completely blank in the face of death or fear? That’s what it felt like hanging there. As though you know you’re going to die, but there’s nothing you can do about it and holding onto your brother’s legs is the only hope you have at surviving, bleak thought it is.

“Mr. Gandalf!” Dori cried before losing his grip.

I screamed, holding onto Dori’s legs tighter and closing my eyes. We stopped, swinging in the air. I don’t know what Dori grabbed, but it delayed death again.

_Mahal, please don’t let us die! I don’t want to die! I don’ wanna die!_

Then we’re falling again and we land on something sturdy. With feathers.

Dori pulled me up onto whatever it was that caught us. My heart hammered in my chest and my breathing was short and raspy. I couldn’t stop crying, even as sense seeped back into me and I was certain I’d not fall again.

The sun crept up in the sky and I could see that we were rescued by eagles.

Giant eagles.

“Thorin!” Fili shouted.

I turned around, spying Thorin in the back, unconscious and held in the claws of an Eagle. It set him on top of another cliff—I wish they had dropped us off somewhere closer to the ground—and Gandalf went to attend to Thorin. Dori and I slid off the Eagle and Nori embraced us.

“Don’t _ever_ do that again, you two idiots!” he snarled.

I don’t think Dori and I intend to be falling from great heights any time soon again and I just cling to Nori, still shaking even though I’m feeling much better than I was before. It’s easier to laugh off after a few hours on eagle back, it seems.

“The Halfling?” Thorin asked once conscious.

“Bilbo’s safe,” Gandalf assured him. Thorin stood and approached him.

“What did you think you were doing?! You could have gotten yourself killed!”

I aim to speak up, but Dori grabbed my shoulder, shaking his head. The look he gave me was enough to know that he and Thorin would talk later, leader to leader.

“I’ve never been so wrong in all my life!” Thorin said, embracing Bilbo.

While it’s better, I don’t think Dori will be letting this go any time soon. 

We make camp on the cliff and once that has been done, Dori approaches Thorin, inquiring a word with him. Pity I won’t be able to see it, tired as I am and still shivering.

Nori mistakes it for chills from the cold and rubs my arms in hopes of warming me up.

Bofur called Nori over and, once assured that I’d be fine, he went to talk to him. Dwalin sat beside me.

“Are you all right, lad?”

“Just a little shaky. But I’m glad I’m not a bloody mess on the forest floor or something, I suppose.” Dwalin hummed, lighting his pipe.  “Thank you for letting me borrow your hammer.”

“Well, it was going to suit you better than that knife. Knives are only good for so much.”

“I suppose so,” I said. He held his hand out.

“May I see it?”

I glare at him. “Why? Are you going to mock it again?”

“No.”

I wait a minute, but he does not shy away. I free the dagger and give it to him. Dwalin balances the blade in his hand, it gleams silver in the light.

“Not bad. Is this the same blade you got from your friend?”

“From Kaz? Yes.”

Dwalin handed it back to me. “It’s a good weapon for close one-on-one combat, but I recommend learning a weapon that could be used to fight multiple enemies.”

“I’m a bit scrawny.”

“You’re young, so it doesn’t matter whether your scrawny or not. It’s not the muscles that display strength, but ability and training. Muscles are just the result. I’ve met many a miner who had bigger muscles than I but couldn’t fight worth squat.” He smirked. “When the chance comes, we’ll see how well you manage with some lighter weight weaponry. Aye?”

I shrugged. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

Dwalin nodded and stood, approaching Thorin and Dori, both of whom looked ready to murder the other. Dori stormed off, his face red and I teeth grinding. Best to leave him alone for now.

It’ll be a long night, I suppose.

#

We don’t know where Gandalf is leading us, but he assures us that our supposed host may or may not be willing to have us. It’s not comforting and being chased by a bear so soon while we were still sporting injuries was not helping anyone’s mood.

Dori and Thorin were still snarling at each other like a pair of angry dogs waiting to fight and I was tired of their battle over whether Thorin should or should not properly apologize to Bilbo. We certainly owe him our gratitude and Dori’s convinced that Thorin’s head is shoved too far up his own arse.

He may have a point there.

The following morning is when we meet Beorn officially.

I like him more when he’s not trying to tear us apart with his big bear claws. He offers us refuge for as long as we need to heal and replenish our supplies.

Early the next day, someone kicks my feet and I glare up at Dwalin.

“Get up, lad.”

“Why?”

“Found staffs. Easy enough for beginners.”

“I can fight without any of that stuff.”

“You’re not in Ered Luin and you’re not fighting drunken rich brats anymore. You’re among some of Ered Luin's finest warriors. Best learn how to use some weapons. Now up you get. I’ll see you on the lawn in five minutes or there’ll be hell to pay.”

I groan and turn over on my side. Screw him.

A moment later, I’m dragged out of bed by the scruff of my neck. “Oi! Let go!” I shout, thrashing against Dwalin’s grip as he dragged me outside.

“Good luck, Ori,” Fili groaned from his bed, smirking.

I’m going to put a mouse in his shoe. Dori and Nori, somehow, don’t wake up, though a few are snapping at us to be quiet, turning back over in their sleep.

Dwalin let go of me when we were outside. The sky was grey-blue and a line of orange and yellow was creeping over the forest to the east.

It’s too early for this shit and I make it known to Dwalin quite colorfully.

“Get used to it,” he said, tossing me the staff. It clatters at my feet and I pick it up. What the hell am I supposed to do with this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The Outside" by Red


	10. Where is the Blood?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late. I was at an all-day job interview yesterday, running on maybe 3-5 hours of sleep and tons of caffeine. And got the job at the end of it all. But after getting home, couldn’t write at all and went to bed at eight. Anyway! Here’s the chapter.

All our expectations the same  
So why do I take the blame?  
You yourself were king of the game  
So why do I pay for your pain?

* * *

“Before you actually use a staff, lad, you need to have an understanding of what your weapon can do. A staff is lightweight and effective for both defensive and offensive positions. And when you’re not in combat, it’s still useful. Perfect for travelers and merchants.”

I pressed one of the flat ends of the staff into the ground and leaned on it, glaring at him. I just want to go back to sleep. Dwalin takes it back.

“However, I want to see how well you can fight.”

I arch a brow. “What?”

“Go ahead, try to punch me,” he goaded. “I know you want to. So go ahead.”

I look around. There is literally no one else up. How in Arda does he _do_ this? I aim for his cheek and he grabs my fist in one hand.

“You’re swing is too wide and you’re using too much force. An enemy could easily cut you here,” he taps his other hand against my ribs. “It might work against a group of brats, but not with me.”

“Does it matter?” I ask.

“The point is to survive an attack. Randomly punching and hoping to do damage will get you killed in the end against a trained soldier. So keep your arms closer to your sides when you punch. Aim for the gut.”

“Most of you wear armor.”

“Many Orcs do not,” Dwalin said. “Exposing their skin gives them an extra push for self-preservation. You might not be able to punch any of us, but you will definitely manage to punch an Orc if you can get close enough. If you can aim for the face, fine, but be aware that—especially with an opponent bigger than yourself—you’ll leave yourself wide open for attack and they’ll do more damage to you then you will to them.”

I crossed my arms and glared at him. I’d been fighting like that since the Dumúhúrud. Nori and Dori always told me I was doing fine. Then again, in my tired state, I recognized that perhaps what Kurdâlh would consider acceptable would be pitiful to a trained and battle hardened soldier.

Dwalin circled me. “All right, lad, this is what we’ll do. While we’re here, you get up every morning when I tell you. Fili and Kili will join you.”

“But—”

“Their experience does not mean they do not need to train just as hard as you will. The three of you will warm up together. Stretches, ten laps around the house, a hundred push-ups, a hundred sit-ups.”

I stared at him, eyes widening. _Dear Mahal, what have I gotten into?_

“After that, they’ll go do their own thing while you and I practice hand to hand combat and the staff.”

“So pretty much I’m about to be tortured.”

Dwalin smirked. “Lad, you don’t know torture yet. Buck up. I’m going easy on you.”

_That is easy?!_

I glared at Dwalin. “I can’t possibly do _that_ much and still have energy left for whatever else you have planned.”

“You’ll be fine. A little exercise never hurt anyone.”

“Unless you’re not used to it,” I grumbled.

“Ori, you have potential,” Dwalin said. “You can do this and you will.” He turned back to the door. Fili and Kili walked out of the house. They looked nothing close to awake. Kili’s hair was tied back out of his face in a messy pony tail and Fili’s eyes were still closed.

The sun was finally creeping up over the tree line.

“Can we have breakfast first?” Fili said.

Dwalin didn’t answer. He waved them off and Kili sent a rude gesture at his back.

“I am so sorry, Ori,” Fili said, leaning against the pillar. “Out of the two of them, you _had_ to get Dwalin’s attention. Balin’s an easier task master.”

“Depends on your definition of easier,” Kili added, propping his foot against the opposite pillar and stretching his leg. “Thorin said Balin was just as nasty. But they’re the best for a reason, I guess.”

“Do I _have_ to do this?”

“Do you want to die?” the brothers asked. I winced and Fili helped me stretch.

#

Every muscle in my body ached and I hadn’t any idea how many arguments sprouted between the company about the “importance of techniques.”

I shuffled into the room and climbed back into bed with a groan. Sleeping on the floor or ground wasn’t helping either. I just wanted it to end. Or to leave. Either would work. Or, if I was lucky, Dwalin would give up. That would be wonderful.

“What are you doing?”

I look at Nori and glower at him.  “Unless you’ve come to put me out of my misery, let me sleep.” Nori arched a brow and I sat up. “Everything hurts, Nori.”

“Yeah, that’s your muscles. They’re getting stronger.  It’ll stop hurting in a matter of time.”

“I hate you.”

Nori smirked. “You love me, Nadadith. Don’t deny it.” I send him a rude gesture and bury under the covers. “We’re leaving tomorrow morning, if that helps.”

I sit up. “We are?” I ask with hope. If we leave, Dwalin can’t make me train and this soreness will go away. Eventually. “If you are lying to me, Nori…”

Nori’s eyes bugged and he placed his hand over his heart. “Me? Lie? To my baby brother? How could you assume I would say something as horrid as a lie?”

“ _Nori_.”

“Yes, we’re leaving tomorrow,” Nori said, “Now get back up and let’s eat.”

“Can’t,” I groan. Nori grabs my arms and tugs me up.

“Sure you can. You’ll be fine. It’s fish!”

“I thought Beorn was a vegetarian or something.”

“He’s a bear. Bears eat fish. So he got us some fish to eat.”

“I’d rather have cow or chicken. Or deer.”

“Do you really want to risk saying that to our host?”

I blink. “No,” I say. “I do not. I’ll eat the fish, I never said I’d complain.”

“That’s a good grumpy brother of mine,” Nori teased, ruffling my hair. I jab my elbow into his ribs and smirk at the groan. “Ori, don’t be an ass!”

The dining room is filled with the company. Thorin talks to Beorn about supplies and Bilbo sits beside him, tearing at a bread roll.

“What’s going on between them?” I ask. “Thorin’s…”

“Yeah, we think it might be Dori’s influence. Never underestimate our brother in the art of making people do shit. He is Khulzhel for reasons beyond his strength.”

I hum. Yep. That sounds like Dori. I sit by him.

“How did you get _that_ to happen?” I ask, nudging toward Bilbo and Thorin.

Dori rolled his eyes. “Our king is painfully obvious and most of our companions are idiotic. I’m surprised you didn’t notice how much of a child pulling pigtails he was. Someone had to kick him in the rear to get him to talk to Bilbo. I merely suggested a way in once I was done yelling at him for being a brat.”

“Thorin _likes_ Bilbo?”

“Like I said,” Dori sighed, tearing into the fish. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”

“I’ve been busy trying to stay alive. Gets a little hard when you’re being hunted, nearly got tortured, and almost fall off a cliff.”

Dori nodded. “True. That would mess with your perception, I suppose. Another thing,” he looked at me. “Why is Dwalin looking at you?”

“He is?”

“Ori, you’re smart, but sometimes…”

I shove him. “There’s nothing going on. Besides, I’m still ages away from an adult. I doubt Dwalin is interested in me like that.”

“Oh, he might be. It happens. Most are willing to wait until their One is an adult. That you wouldn’t notice is strongly due to the fact that you _are_ underage. That wouldn’t mean that Dwalin wouldn’t know. We’ve discussed it several times—”

“What?!” I shout.  The others stare at us.

Dori glares at me. “We’ll continue this in private. Later. Now eat.”

I get up. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

“ _Ori_.”

“You’re not my dad, Dori, so _stop_ fucking telling me what to do!” I shout before striding out the door. My One? Dwalin?

The idea makes my stomach flip. Besides, it’s impossible. I’ve never felt a longing before. Usually it comes when a Dwarf becomes a teenager. Which I am and _yet_ I’ve never felt it. Not once. Not ever.

Dori has a longing, but he’s not found them yet. And Nori has a longing, but he’s never found his One yet either. And then Kaz and Ithal found each other when they were still very young.

But I never felt it. I didn’t mind not feeling it in the slightest. I used to wonder what it would feel like and asked my brothers. They both described it as loneliness even in a room full of people.

Why would I want to feel that? I’m satisfied so long as I have my books. I’ve never felt that loneliness that comes with not knowing your One. I don’t need anything else.

Besides. It’s _Dwalin_! He killed Kaz. Knows nothing about Kurdâlh and goes about calling us terrorists and stains. Or did before my story.

“He’s not my One. He can’t be. I don’t have a One and I don’t need a One,” I mutter to myself, sliding to the ground and holding my head in my hands. A plate of fish and bread is set on the ground in front of me. I look at Dori. I lower my hands. “I know you’re mad, but can we _not_ do this now?”

“Eat. And listen to what I have to say,” he said. “I know I’m not your dad, Ori. And I know I’m not Amad, either. I am trying, but you’ve no idea how _hard_ it is to raise two teenage Dwarrow. I did the best I could given the circumstances.”

“I know. I’m sorry I snapped, but…”

“I also know you’ve repressed your Longing. You should feel it, but you never once brought it up. Always acted content to be by yourself with your books. Which is fine and I’m not saying that it isn’t. Dwalin knew since that night. And you should’ve known then too, even if you were angry. And I think a part of you did know. So yes, Dwalin and I have talked. He knows he is not allowed to court you until you are of age. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. Remember how after a little time, things got somewhat better for us? That was Dwalin helping us.”

I scoff, picking up the roll. “That doesn’t change anything.”

“Perhaps not,” Dori said. “He still killed Kaz and he regrets it. He’s been atoning for a long time and he is trying to help me protect you. I know you aren’t ready to accept it, but I thought you should know.” He squeezed my shoulder gently. “In the end, Dwalin is a good Dwarf, Ori, and I trust him. Go take a bath after you eat. You’re muscles will thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Khuzdul~
> 
> Nadadith=little brother
> 
> Khulzhel=the male of all males
> 
> "Where is the Blood?" Delain


	11. Fairyland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late! This week's just been...bad. Let's put it that way.

Colder than Ice  
The World falls apart  
Cold like a Stone  
The spell on the Souls  
Colder than ice  
Your hand on my Heart  
A world made of stone  
Let tenderness freeze

* * *

Two weeks.

Food is dwindling down. Water is already gone.

It’s Nori’s fault. I’m sure of it. He lost the bloody path and now we are here, looking, searching, hoping beyond hope to find the path.

_Why Ori?_

I turn around, eyes darting between the trees.

I sigh and bump into Kili.

“Watch it,” I snap.

“You bumped into me,” he said, shoving me.

I shoved back.

Fili stepped in to defend his brother—bloody fuckers.

“Boys!” Dori shouted, pulling us apart.

_Ori, why?_

I looked around again.

_Why Ori? Why did you let us die?_

I shake my head and lean against Dori. “I want to get out of here.”

He rubbed my back. “We all do. You just have to hold on a little longer.”

“Are you seeing things yet?” I ask. “Or hearing things?”

“Well, I’m a little disoriented,” Dori admitted. “But no. I’m fine. Why?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

Nori approached us. His hair was in disarray. “Bloody forest stretches on forever,” he cursed, pulling twigs out of his hair.

I glare at him.

“What? Now don’t go around blaming me for losing the path! We could’ve lost it ages ago before I pointed it out.”

I sigh.

_Ori…_

“I’m tired, that’s all,” I say, looking around. “The air’s too close in here.”

“We’re all tired, Ori,” Nori said, crossing his arms. “But complaining is only going to make things worse for us. So it’d be better if you just kept it to yourself, aye?”

I glower. “At least I’m not as bad as Bombur.”

“True,” Dori said. “Keep close. We’ll make camp as soon as possible.” He left us and I leaned against Nori. He squeezed my shoulder and we moved forward.

_It’s your fault…_

_Ori…_

_Why, Ori?_

I look behind me. Ithal stood in the trees, angry burns all over his body. Bald. Eyes red.

“Why, Ori?”

I turned away, gripping Nori’s hand tightly. “Ow! Ori, let go!”

“Ithal’s here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ori. It’s just a hallucination. We’re all seeing them. Bilbo thought Dori was him once.”

“But he’s angry—”

Nori gripped my shoulders. “Ori, he’s _not_ there. Pull yourself together and let’s keep moving, eh?”

He pushed me forward.

I looked over my shoulder.

Ithal is gone.

#

_Why him?_

I cover my ears and keep my eyes shut tight.

 _He killed me, Ori. So how could he be your One? That_ dharg _will never understand you! He will never accept who you are! You’re a_ Shuklâl _, Ori!_

I whimper and Dori rubs my back, trying to keep me calm.

#

I stick between my brothers, trying to keep from shivering.

_Kurdâl._

_Shuklâl._

_Outsider._

_Beater._

_Cheater._

_Gangster._

_Trouble maker._

_You don’t belong anywhere…_

I grip at my hair. “Dori…”

Dori pulls my hands away. “It’s all right. They’re not real, Ori. They can’t hurt you.”

I shake my head. “They feel real.”

“They _aren’t_ , Ori. You know they aren’t. They can’t hurt you,” Dori loosened his grip. “Keep close now. And remember. They aren’t real.”

“Who do you keep seeing?” I ask. Dori pauses, frowning. “I keep hearing and seeing Ithal and Kaz. They’re angry. Who do you see?”

“Amad,” he said. “I see Amad. And she’s not happy either. The thing is, I don’t care what she says. It was difficult raising you and Ori on my own. I did the best I could. So no one has the right to say I did terribly. Considering where you are now, I think I did all right.”

“Could’ve yelled less.”

Dori shrugged. “Well, what are brothers for if not to give each other grief?”

#

They came out of nowhere and in our weakened state, we couldn’t fight back. I felt something plunge into my side and everything went hazy…

_Ori…_

_Ori…_

_Ori!_

“Ori! Wake up!”

Something collided with my cheek and I yelped, opening my eyes and clutching my cheek. Dwalin sighed. “Thank Mahal you woke up.”

“What happened?”

“Spiders—”

“Get him on his feet,” a harsh, lilting voice demanded. I looked at the speaker. An Elf stood with an arrow aimed at us.

Dwalin snarled. “He’s a lad, give him a moment.”

“I’m not that helpless,” I snapped, wobbling to my feet.

Dwalin steadies me.

“Where are my brothers?”

“They’re all right,” Dwalin said, leading me forward.

I hated how my muscles refused to obey me and I’m forced to rely on Dwalin to keep steady. The Elves pushed us forward. Dwalin’s grip almost cut off the circulation in my arms as they led us inside the fortress city.

An Elf grabbed my wrist. Dwalin growled shoving him away. The Elf shouted for aid and two others grabbed Dwalin.

“Get off me! Don’t touch him!” They shoved Dwalin in a cell.

The Elf steadied me, leading me into another cell. I leaned against the bars.

“Can I get some chips?” I ask. “When food comes?”

The Elf chuckled. “I’ll see what can be done, little one.”

He left and I rolled my eyes.

“Ori?” Nori called. “You all right?”

“Yes,” I say. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Get some sleep if you can, then,” Dori added. “We might be here a while.”

“Not too long, I hope,” Nori adds. “Let’s pray Thorin is able to unstick his head from his arse and make a deal with the weed king.”

I scoff. That sounds bloody unlikely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Khuzdul~  
> Dhard=troll  
> Shuklâl=Outsider (singular)  
> Amad=Mother/Mom
> 
> "Fairyland" by Angelzoom


	12. Skyscraper

Skies are crying, I am watching  
Catching tear drops in my hands  
Only silence as it's ending  
Like we never had a chance  
Do you have to make me feel like  
There's nothing left of me?

* * *

 

I pull myself out of the barrel that was my temporary transportation and pull of my boot which came off with a _schulp_ sound. Everything felt slimy, especially between my toes.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t get the weapons,” Bilbo said as he approached me. He sat beside me. “I know you valued your knife, Ori.”

“It’s not your fault,” I tell him, shaking out the other boot. I’ll take pride in that I’m not the only one who lost a favorite keepsake. “I mean, have you seen Fili? He’s been whining about it since he got out of his barrel.” Bilbo hummed. He squeezed my shoulder.

“I suppose that’s true, but that dagger was from a dear friend, was it not?”

I nod. “Really, Bilbo, I’ve done with less. But thank you for checking on me anyway.” Bilbo stood and went over to check on Kili. I press my lips together. He doesn’t look good even if he attempts to assure his brother and uncle that he is.

I turn away from them, pulling off the other boot. _Schulp_. It’s gross. I shake it out and pull off my sock. A shadow cast over me and I turned around.

Bow. Arrow. Aimed at me.

Mahal, please no more Elves!

Dwalin jumped between me and the archer, brandishing a branch. The arrow flew and embedded in the log. He let loose another arrow at Kili, knocking a rock out of his hand.

He aimed a third arrow at Dwalin. “Do it again and the next one goes between your eyes,” he sneered. “Who are you?”

Balin stepped forward, hands held up. “You’re from Laketown?”

“Aye.”

“Perhaps we may have a word?” Balin walked away with the man, talking in hushed whispers while he pulled the barrels onto the barge. Dwalin abandoned the log and approached me as I returned to ringing out the water from my socks. I don’t think they’re going to be saved, but at least I can try to get them somewhat dry.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I say. “I wasn’t the one who was shot at, after all.”

“He was aiming at you.”

I arch a brow at him. “And likely he just wanted answers,” I said. “I’m not upset. After all, the only reason he shot is because you came at him with a log. You can’t really blame him for getting defensive.”

Dwalin crossed his arms and scowled.

“How about we just chalk it up to a few very bad weeks and leave it at that?” I ask, grimacing at the state of my socks. Maybe we’ll have enough money left to get some new ones after this.

“Fine. Not like it’s not true.”

I pull my boots on, glad he agreed, and went to join my brothers. Balin convinced the archer— _bargeman—_ to sneak us into the city. We spent most of the time sailing up the lake toward the city, scrounging up with little money we had left to pay Bard in order to get into the city.

He had us jump into the barrels just before entering and for a short while, we panicked. Had he sold us out? Was he going to have us arrested?

I’m not sure about the others, but I’m a little bit grateful when fish started piling on top of my head. At the same time, I desperately want a decent bath. From there on, it was touch and go and climbing up through the bathroom…

I really need a good scrubbing now. At least I don’t look as sour as Dori and Dwalin does. When the weapons are procured, everyone gets fussy. I don’t see the issue. Any of these would do well. Why are they being so picky about having real weapons or makeshift ones? Is it really because we’re about to face a dragon?

“Most of these are made of wood,” Dori explained to me when I asked. “They’d never hold against a dragon. At least with real weapons, we have a semblance of a chance.”

“I don’t think there was really any chance,” I said. “We just came because we needed the money. And because Nori’s an idiot.”

“Oi!” Nori snapped at me. I grin. “You’re so lucky you’re my brothers,” he groused.

“You’re not going anywhere!” The bargeman, who gave us the name Bard, shouted.  “The Master is watching the house at this moment. If you intend to leave, it will be under the cover of night.”

Thorin grit his teeth. “If we must,” he snarled. The rest of the day was spent trying to regain our bearings if we could. We took turns with the shower downstairs, keeping them short so that everyone could have a chance with hot water.

A part of me wonders if we’re even going to survive this venture…

“It may be best if Kili stays behind,” Dori said to Thorin far from where Kili rested. I turned to them, keeping out of their line of sight. Thorin’s shoulders were hunched and his head bowed. Dori’s arms were crossed over his chest and his brow furrowed. “The lad’s sick, Thorin. I know he’s your nephew, but he’s only slowing us down.”

“What would you have me do?” Thorin asked. “Would you be able to leave behind your kin if given the choice? Kili has longed to see the mountain. I can’t take that from him.”

“You are thinking as his uncle, not as his leader,” Dori said. “I understand that. I do, and at the same time, he’s _injured_ , Thorin. Look at him: does he look like he’s going to be able to fight? Thorin, if you bring him with us, he _will_ die. He cannot fight in this state, let alone walk. What would Dis want you to do? Do you really think she’d let you indulge the lad’s taste for adventure when he’s _sick_?”

Thorin sighed. “I’ll think on it.”

“Tell him to stay behind and rest. Tell him to get better. Make it an order if you have to.”

“It is not fair to him.”

“It’s worse if you let him risk his life again. Kili’s a good lad. I know you worry about him, but you need to stop encouraging his recklessness and do what is best for him. So go ahead and think on it, but we both know what the right choice is, both as a leader and as a parent.”

Dori walked away from him, leaving Thorin to dwell on his advice.

“So when did you replace Balin?” I ask.

“I haven’t,” Dori said, pulling me into a headlock. “But Balin has no parental experience. So I was giving him my opinion. Hopefully, he’ll do the right thing.”

“Like with Bilbo?” I asked.

Dori shrugged. “Ori, you know I was reluctant to let you fight in the Dumúhúrud before because of the trauma you had recently undergone, but I let you anyway.”

“Yes.”

“Do you know why?” I blinked, staring up at him. Dori grinned. “I let you fight because I could see you needed to fight. If I didn’t let you fight, you’d never become the Kurdâl you are now. You never really changed, but you are a better fighter. You don’t need Nori or me to come to your rescue anymore. I still worry, of course. I’m always going to worry about you, but I also need to be able to let you do what you believe is best. You survived a lot and I know you can handle a lot. But look at Kili.”

I do. He’s sleeping against a pillar. His skin is pale and there is a layer of sweat on his brow. The circles under his eyes are darker than before.

“Does that look like a sickness he can just get over in a few hours?” I shake my head. Dori nods. “He needs to rest. He needs to get better and he won’t if he’s traipsing around on a mountain with a fire breathing dragon on his tail. It would be irresponsible of us to let him continue on with us. In his heart, Thorin knows this. All he needs to do now on what he knows is right.”

I nod. “Makes sense,” I said. “Can you let go of me now?”

“Nope.”

“Dori, let go!”

#

Under the cover of darkness, we made our way to the armory and snuck in, gathering the weapons we needed. Thorin paused to speak to Kili. Kili nodded and walked downstairs. We winced at the crash and I feel the cool tip of a point press against my neck.

The guards drag us to the Master’s house and the Master is taken in by Thorin’s pretty words. There is a dark glint behind that Man’s eyes and I don’t like it. He reminds me of the Kilmel I frequently have had to deal with. I press closer to my brothers as Bard steps forward, trying to warn us not to enter the mountain. Thorin, obviously, does not listen, but there is something about the words Bard says that makes me wonder if we’re really doing the right thing.

Dragon or not, Erebor is no longer a kingdom. It’s just a mountain filled with treasure. Dwarf’s treasure, true, but at the same time…

I don’t know any more. The Master invites us inside and we eat. The master takes an interest in Bilbo apart from Thorin, asking questions about the Shire and leaning in closer to him. Thorin wraps an arm around Bilbo’s shoulders, making his claim—though it might not be best to call it that—obvious. Bilbo remains cordial through the whole ordeal, uncomfortable or not.

“He’ll be all right,” Dwalin assures me. “Thorin is protective of those he cares for. That Man won’t be able to get closer to our burglar than this.”

“Bilbo,” I correct. “You might as well call him by his name.” I stand. “I think I’ll go to bed,” I say. “Goodnight.” I escape the table and go to the room that was set aside for me and my brothers. But I don’t sleep. I can’t sleep.

Each time I close my eyes, I see them. I see Ithal and Kaz, angry, bloody or burned, and asking me how in the name of all that is good could Dwalin be my One?

I don’t know what else to do, but pull my legs up to my chin and hide my face in them. Their voices are haunting me and even though I know they’re not real, I feel there is truth to them—

“Ori?” I looked up to see Dwalin standing in the doorway, carrying a tray of food. “You’re brothers asked me to bring this to you.”

“Go away,” I muttered. I can’t put enough bite in it tonight. I’m just so tired and yet too afraid to sleep. He does not look impressed and does not leave. “Just go away. Please. I’m not hungry—”

“Haven’t you been angry at me enough?” he asked. “Ori, it was years ago and I will always regret killing your friend, but I am not going to stand being treated as a villain for doing my job.” I ignore him, hiding my face between my knees again.

_Why Ori?_

“I don’t want a One,” I said. “I never needed a One and I don’t want—”

“What do you want then?” Dwalin snapped. “I can’t erase what happened to your friends! I can’t change that we are One, Ori! So what do you want?”

I shake my head. How can I even begin to answer that when I don’t even know anymore? I relax and look at him. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you just now. I just…I really never felt a need to have a One. Dori thinks I suppressed my Longing. I don’t know why.”

Dwalin’s scowl softened and he sat beside me on the bed. “I can’t tell if you were lucky or not,” he said. He reached out and me embraced me. At first, I’m frozen and I’m afraid to move. But slowly, I relax and the tension seeps away and while Ithal and Kaz still scream at me for betraying them, I realize I’ve not betrayed them at all.

I lay my head on Dwalin’s chest and close my eyes. I might still hear them. I might still feel horrible for this because I will never understand it, but tonight, I can sleep peacefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Came across a comment in another story that said that Thorin was being a jerk about leaving Kili behind the way he did. I don’t agree. I think he did the right thing, but being Thorin used the wrong words to say it. Still, you could tell Thorin was legitimately worried about Kili’s health. Thorin made the Kili would slow them down and he actually would have. It was a difficult decision and there were little tells that showed it in the movie. Thorin does love his nephews and doesn’t want anything to happen to them, but he also has to balance being a king with being an uncle. “I cannot risk this quest for the sake of one dwarf, not even my kin” shows that wonderfully.
> 
> "Skyscraper" by Demi Lavato


	13. My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark

A constellation of tears on your lashes  
Burn everything you love, then burn the ashes  
In the end everything collides  
My childhood spat back out the monster that you see

* * *

We arrive at the overlook at Dale just before midday. “We move on,” Thorin said.

“Thorin!” Bilbo called. “This is where Gandalf told us to meet us. He was very specific that we weren’t to go—”

“He is not here and there is no time to wait,” Thorin snapped. I don’t like this any more than Bilbo does. I’ve a bad feeling about going near the mountain. But I pass it off as excitement rather than nerves. Bilbo finds a staircase that might lead us up to the door and we arrive just as the sun begins to set. But no light shone on any keyhole. We were certain it was the right place. Nori tried to find it, as did Dwalin.

“Break it down!” Thorin shouted. We tried. We did everything we could. But the sun had set. The light was gone. Was the map false? Did we miss something?

Did we come all this way for nothing?

Bilbo didn’t come with us. He’d come eventually—

“…of the moon!” Bilbo shouted. “Come back!” Thorin paused, looking back up at the ledge.

“Thorin?” Balin asked. “What is it?”

“Come back! I found it! I found the keyhole!” Bilbo shouted at us. His voice echoed off the air. Thorin climbed again and we followed, wondering what madness had claimed our burglar and leader. I arrived in time to see Thorin sticking the key into the lock and twisting it.

While Balin and Thorin feel memories, most of the others felt awe. But I felt dread. Something felt terribly wrong, but I couldn’t put my finger on it, and so I remained silent. Until I know what it is exactly that bothers me, there is little point in acting on my fears. I leaned against the wall and Dwalin steadied my shoulder.

 “Are you all right, lad?”

“Yes,” I lie. “I’m just a little lightheaded.” I spy Balin and Bilbo walking down the corridor. “I think I’ll wait outside.”

“Agreed,” Thorin said. “The air is stale here. Leave the door open.” We retreat outside and I take a deep breath. The bad feeling is still there and I stay as far from the door as I can. I kneel, balanced on the balls of my feet and hold my head in my hands.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Dwalin asked.

I nodded. “I’m just lightheaded. I’ll be fine in a moment.”

Balin stepped out and looked as though a weight suddenly was lifted off him. He looked back at the door and shakes his head, muttering under his breath. Does he feel it too?

#

Time has slowed and became immeasurable. I manage to fall asleep, dreaming of the riches bound to be waiting for us in the mountain. It also contains a dragon but oddly the dragon wasn’t that bad. More like a very badly behaved cat…

The mountain rumbles and I wake.

“Was that an earthquake?” Dori asked.

“That, my lad, was a dragon,” Balin corrects. He looks terrified. Thorin seems to freeze. He looks away. “Thorin? Thorin we have to go after him.”

Thorin sighed. “I cannot risk this quest over the life of one… _burglar_.”

That can’t be a good sign and everyone knows it. Balin narrows his eyes at him. “ _Bilbo_ ,” he corrects. Thorin looks at him. “His name is _Bilbo_.”

“It does not matter. The dragon is awake. He’s failed—”

“Is that the way you would treat your One?!” Dori snapped. “King or not, I have had faith you were not so foolish as to let your One fend for himself!”

“What would you have me do? If I go after him I risk all of us—”

“ _We are risking ourselves_ ,” Bifur said. “ _We came freely with you because we decided we need our home. The Hobbit didn’t have to come with us, but he did._ ”

“You told me once that there were only three things you desired,” Balin snapped, “Loyalty, honor, and a willing heart! Bilbo has displayed all of that and more! If you are his One, then you owe him the same! Thorin, please, _don’t_ become your grandfather.”

“I am _not_ my grandfather!” Thorin shouted.

“You’re certainly not yourself,” Balin said, crossing his arms.

“You would have me risk everything for a Hobbit?”

“He’s your One, isn’t he?” I asked, standing. “If that is true, then risking everything is the only course you should take. He should mean more to you than this mountain. He should be enough.”

“And what would a child know of love?” Thorin sneered. “You have repressed your Longing. You’ve broken your One’s heart with your cruelty. And for what? Honor to a pair of dead Kurdâlh?”

“Who were my friends,” I remind him. “I am Kurdâl, too. And I’m not ashamed of it. Neither are my brothers. You, of all people, should understand the need to do whatever it takes to survive. That’s all my brothers and I have ever done. And you don’t have the right to tell me otherwise. Right now, you’re as bad as the Kilmel I’ve fought: greedy, uncaring, ignorant, and foolish. I’m not here out of loyalty to you. I’m here because my family needs the money. That’s all we care about.”

I step closer to Thorin until I have to look up at him, scowling. “But _you_ have always had more, even when there was nothing. You made a home for us in Ered Luin and it _still_ wasn’t enough for you. You want to judge me for what I’ve done? What about the things you’ve done to Bilbo? Have you not been crueler than I? I have a legitimate reason behind it. Yes, I guess I did repress my Longing. But you didn’t. You outright rejected the bond whereas I haven’t felt it yet. Maybe I’m just late in it. I’m not even legally considered an adult yet by our people, but even I know that the way you’ve treated Bilbo _knowing_ he was your One is worse than anything I’ve done. A part of me does want to know what it feels like, but another part of me is content. And yes, I’m mad that Dwalin killed my friend. I don’t know if there will ever be a time I’m not mad. But angry or not, I think once I know how deep that bond between us is I wouldn’t hesitate to follow him into battle or to Mordor or wherever. Like the way _you_ are hesitating to go after Bilbo.”

The mountain rumbled again and Thorin stumbles. He looks at the door. “If I hesitate, it is because I am afraid to go in. You feel it too, don’t you? It creeps on you, like a shadow in the dark.” He steps toward the mountain. “But whether I fear it or not, I must go.” He turned to the rest of us. “Stay here. If I don’t return with Bilbo, assume the worst and leave.”

He entered the mountain. The rest of us exchanged looks. “Are we just going to stay here?” Gloin asked. The pause after was strong and we glanced at the door. Dwalin followed first. Then the rest of us after him. Dori grabbed my arm.

“Keep close to me.”

“Do I have to?” I asked. He glared at me. “Fine. I’ll keep close.”

We find them in the treasury, weapons at the ready and with a dragon charging at us. So we do the only thing we can do: run hard and fast. Regroup come up with a plan to distract the dragon. Not likely to go well, but it’s better than nothing.

“So, before we die,” Dori said, “excellent speech.”

“Thanks, I guess.” I rub the back of my neck. “Someone had to say it.”

“True. But now what? Have you been feeling your Longing?”

“No,” I said. “Not even once. Not since I found out, not even at this moment. But I’m pretty sure if I did, I’d not want to be apart from Dwalin. I know it wasn’t his fault that Kaz died. It might’ve been an accident or something like it, but that doesn’t mean I’m any less angry at him for it. Kaz shouldn’t have died.”

“Neither should have Ithal,” Dori said. “But it can’t be changed.”

“Maybe not, but I don’t know if I can let it go. A part of me is afraid to let it go.”

Dori hummed. “That’s natural,” he said. “Especially when you’ve lived so long with that much anger toward someone you didn’t even know well enough to be angry at until now. You probably don’t know him well enough to be angry now anyway.”

“You do.”

“And it’s not my place to tell you about Dwalin,” Dori said. “He’s _your_ One, Ori. _You_ figure it out. Here we go.” Dori ran out and I followed, shouting at Smaug to come after us.

We met up at the forges. The dragon follows us and Thorin—idiot that our King is—riles Smaug up to light them. Really, who in their right mind would do that?! I swear, half the company is suicidal in some way or other. At least I don’t feel cold anymore…

Save for the roaring of fire, I can only hear the fast pounding of my heart in my chest.

We could die.

We might die here and fail in our quest and I will never know what it feels like to be in love. To know my One and experience the same love Kaz and Ithal had. I know it’s different for others, but to have never known…I open my eyes. The heat dries them, but they rest on Dwalin.

_I don’t want to die not knowing._

The fire dies and the forges come to life.

“Balin, can you make flash bombs?” Thorin asked.

“Aye, it’ll be just a jiffy,” Balin said.

“We don’t _have_ a jiffy!” Dwalin snapped. I glance at Smaug and I have to agree. Either way, I follow Balin.

“Tell me what to do,” I said. “I can help.”

Balin directed me to the different powders to give him and how to mix them. Once ready, we gave them to Dori who distracted Smaug with them. They barely hurt the dragon, but it irritated him at least…which might be worse.

Gold melted inside the forges and spilled out of the spout into divots. Rivers of liquid gold snaked their way through the lands. We ran into the hall of kings, gripping chains locked on Stone. Thorin climbed on top of them.

“So you care about them, do you?” Smaug asked, leering at Bilbo. “Good.”  He turned toward the entrance.

“Enough!” Thorin shouted, “You witless worm!” The dragon paused, turning toward us.

“You,” Smaug purred.

“I am taking back what you stole,” Thorin sneered. Smaug crawled toward us.

“You’ll take _nothing_ from me,” he said. “I laid low your warriors of old. I instill terror in the hearts of Men. I am _King under the Mountain_.”

“This is not your kingdom,” Thorin replied. “These are dwarf lands. This is Dwarf gold. And we will have our revenge.” He gripped the rope at the top of the pillar. “ _Pull the chains! Pull them now!_ ” he ordered in Khuzdul. We ripped the chains free and watched the rocks tumble to reveal a statue of Thror. The statue held for a brief moment before melting down and drenching Smaug, who roared in pain.

For a moment all was still.

For a moment, I truly thought we had succeeded. The gold rippled and Smaug emerged.

“Revenge?” The dragon bellowed. “Revenge?! I will show you revenge!” He burst through the doors and flew into the sky toward Laketown.

“What have we done?” Bilbo whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark" by Fall Out Boy


	14. A Demon's Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!
> 
> Be aware that there is mentions of gold-madness induced abuse. There's also some molestation. 
> 
> If you'd rather skip this chapter, that's fine. I plan to post another chapter later today with a summary of what happens in this chapter.

What have you done?  
Is this what you wanted?  
What have you become?  
His soul's not forsaken  
You're walking alone  
From heaven into hell

* * *

  _For a moment all was still._

_For a moment, I truly thought we had succeeded. The gold rippled and Smaug emerged._

_“Revenge?” The dragon bellowed. “Revenge?! I will show you revenge!” He burst through the doors and flew into the sky toward Laketown._

_“What have we done?” Bilbo whispered._

We wait for the morning in trepidation of Smaug’s return. When word arrives that the dragon is dead and those we left behind are on their way to the mountain. It is a happy moment that our mistake has been taken care of. But as the day progressed, I felt as though something was wrong. By noon, Thorin is demanding that we search for the Arkenstone. Bilbo and I both try to make him rest and convince the others of it. By night, Fili, Kili, Oin, and Bofur have returned and they too join the search.

“Let’s eat.”

“It’s dark out, why not take a break?”

“You all must be exhausted.”

No one listened. No one seemed to hear us. All that was left was the blind obedience toward Thorin and he seemed the worst of them. Another day passed this way, but somehow I’m left to myself, staying as far away from the treasure room as I can. I wander the halls, search for the library, if there ever was a library.

I hoped there was a library. Otherwise, I’d go mad.

Sniffling paused me in my search and I found Bilbo under an old dusty table, massaging his shoulder. “Bilbo?”

“Oh! Ori,” he wipes his eyes. It doesn’t make them any less red or glassy. His cheeks are flushed and his lips are bruised. “Sorry. Have I been gone long?”

“I didn’t notice you were gone. I’ve been looking for the library. Are you okay, Bilbo?”

“What?” He asked, blinking. “Oh! Oh, um, yes. I’m fine. I just…needed some time alone, you know? Everyone else is in the treasure room, after all. I figured I’d be able to get a little privacy here.”

“May I join you?” I ask. “Keep you company until you’re better?”

“I…won’t Dwalin…”

“I don’t care what Dwalin thinks. He’s been preoccupied with the treasure as it is and something’s bothering you. I thought at least Thorin would come looking for you if he noticed.”

“Actually, I’m glad he hasn’t,” Bilbo said, rubbing his hand over his shoulder. “I mean that…that he and I…well, you know what madness is going on here better than I do.”

I reach over and pull his shirt over to reveal the bruise and bite mark. “Bilbo, is Thorin hurting you—”

“He’s just being a little rougher than usual,” Bilbo said, waving it off and pulling his shirt back over the mark. “It’s just…when he’s not focused on the Arkenstone, he’s focused on me a little too intently…I mean, he already has me. I love him and all, but there’s only so much someone can take under these circumstances. You know?”

“No. I don’t,” I say.

“But you and Dwalin—”

“Bilbo, I’m not even legally considered an adult yet. Even if Dwalin does love me, it’d be inappropriate for him to court me and he knows that. He keeps an eye on me, sometimes offers comfort, but beyond that, there is nothing between us save lots of anger.”

“Because of what happened to your friends.”

I nod. “I guess we both should be careful around them for now.” Bilbo nods, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes and fresh tears threatened to spill and his breathing hitches.

“Goodness, I’m sorry. It’s been a rather… _intense_ couple of days,” he confessed. I embraced him.

“I don’t mind,” I assured him. “It’s been an intense journey for all of us, but we do know it was harder on you, Bilbo. You’re admirable anyway and no one blames you for needing a reprieve.” Bilbo hid his face in my shoulder and wept. I can feel scratches on his back and there are teeth marks on his ear…

What has Thorin done to him?

I convinced Bilbo to help me find the library once his tears are spent. I don’t know what time it is when Bilbo finds it but I feel relief the moment I step into the vast library. It’s mostly untouched, save for the thick layers of dust. But Bilbo and I light the torches and find that windows had been left open. There is evidence of birds nesting in here, but Bilbo suggests leaving them be for now. If birds can get in, we might have a little bit of music while we clean.

It would take more than two people to put the library back together, but Bilbo and I do what we can for now and with each movement, I felt calmer and the tension I felt around our companions eased away.

“Would you know how to navigate the library system here?” Bilbo asked.

“I’m afraid not,” I say, “Why?”

“I wanted to read up on gold-madness. Find out of there was anything I could do to snap Thorin out of it,” he said, picking up a book and opening it. His frown deepened. “But I feel that I would have difficulty reading these.”

“They’re in Khuzdul,” I agreed. “We guard our language greedily.” Bilbo glared at me. “Bad word choice. We’re just very reluctant to teach our language to outsiders, but I wouldn’t mind translating it for you.”

“That’d be helpful,” Bilbo agreed, setting the book down. “It’s nice to see so many of the books are in good condition. Whether I can read them or not, _this_ is where the real treasure is.”

I smile at him. “I think you’re right,” I tell him, stroking the back of a spine.

“Well at least someone has a good head on their shoulders. I mean, you won’t be able to eat any of this, but at least if we die, we die smarter.”

I stare at him and he smirks at me until we both laughed.

#

Bilbo wasn’t ready to return and given the injuries I found on him, I couldn’t blame him. But we both needed food and Bilbo needed medicine for the wounds. It wasn’t until I snuck away from the treasury that I felt someone following me. I reached into my pocket, running my thumb along the flat of a knife I found after the dragon.

Bilbo sat at a table, reading one of the books in Westron. I showed him my bounty and returned his grin after passing a bit of cram to him. It wasn’t much but it was better than nothing. Whoever followed me was still around, I could feel it, but they hadn’t acted yet. Honestly, I don’t know if they ever will. I hope they won’t.

I rub the salves and poultice over the scratches and bruises. “Bilbo, this doesn’t look good.”

“I know the situation’s a bit dodgy—”

“Not that. You,” I said. “I mean what Thorin did to you.”

“Oh,” he said and then silenced, muscles tensing under my fingers. “Like I said, he’d not done this before.”

“That’s not a good excuse and you know it!”

“I’m not defending him—”

“Yes, Bilbo, you are. There’s laying a physical claim on someone and then there’s outright hurting them. Bilbo this is outright hurting you.”

“He’s not been himself.”

“I know that, but it’s not a good enough excuse.”

“I _know_ that,” Bilbo snapped, turning around and grabbing my wrist. “Ori, why do you think I ran away? He’s not abusing me, I promise, but he’s gotten more possessive of me. His behavior’s more animalistic than before. It was fine when he wanted to display his strength, but when this started happening…”

Bilbo let go. “I need time away from him. That’s all. Just until he’s…he’s my Thorin again.”

“And if he doesn’t become _your Thorin_ again?”

“Then there’s nothing for it,” Bilbo said, swallowing. His eyes looked glassy again and I feel terrible asking. “I’ll go back to the Shire.”

“You don’t have to leave.”

“But I won’t be able to stay. The king in the treasure room is not _my king_.”

I hugged Bilbo and the tears flowed again, though not as strongly as the last time he cried. It’s a difficult decision to make and I had never heard of someone leaving their One before. But I refuse to judge Bilbo’s decision. He shouldn’t have to be with someone he doesn’t feel safe with. I’ve seen what real love between Ones is meant to be like.

I wouldn’t trade it for a lookalike if given the choice.

When Bilbo fell asleep, I covered him in one of the blankets we found when exploring. If he took a shaky breath or hid his face in his jacket which he used as a pillow to muffle his sobs, that would be his decision. I’m just here reading the books and keeping watch while he slept.

Kaz and Ithal…my only idea of what a relationship between Ones should look like. Even my brothers said their relationship was good, despite being so young. They had their screw ups, their moments of anger and they fought. But for the most part, Kaz never dreamt of hurting Ithal. Nor would Ithal think of leaving Kaz. Everything between them seemed natural…

The feeling I’m being watched comes back and I stand as steadily as I can, reaching for the knife in my pocket—

A hand grabs my hair and another covers my mouth to muffle my voice. I’m dragged away from the table and pushed against the wall. Dwalin stares at me. His eyes gleam angrily and one of his hands caresses my throat.

“You’ve been here with the Hobbit?” He growled.

“We didn’t like being in the treasure room,” I said. “It’s calmer here and he’s scared of Thorin.”

“He’s nothing to fear.”

“Yes, he does,” I said. “Thorin’s been hurting him—Dwalin, let me go.” My heart hammers in my chest and Dwalin leans over me. He nuzzles my neck, kissing the sensitive skin. “Let go!”

“And let you return to the Hobbit?”

“There’s nothing going on between Bilbo and me!” I snapped, trying to push him off. “Dwalin, really, get off!” I lowered my hand to my pocket and reached for the knife. He bit my neck and soothed the bite with his tongue. I’ve seen this done before between Kaz and Ithal, but Ithal always seemed to be pleased with it rather than disgusted.

“Ori,” Dwalin growled. “My Ori.”

My gut curled. Something was terribly wrong and I kept trying to push him off. His hand tightened around my throat and I gasped for air, unable to get enough to scream for Bilbo. I pull the knife out and try to embed it in Dwalin’s shoulder—

Dwalin let go of my neck and grabbed my wrist, slamming it into the wall until the knife clattered to the ground. “You were going to stick me?!”

“You’re hurting me!”

There was a loud thwack and Dwalin released me, crumpling to the ground. Bilbo dropped the broken chair leg and I grabbed the knife in shaking hands.

“Come on.”

“What now?”

“We find another place to hide,” Bilbo said, squeezing my shoulders. “And we tread more carefully.”

I massage my throbbing neck. My head still stung from my hair being yanked so violently. “He—”

“I know. I heard you shouting. We’ll find another place and you rest,” Bilbo said.

“Did Thorin—”

“He wasn’t as bad as _that_ , but yes. Ori, I’ll protect you from Dwalin until your brothers are able to, okay? As he is right now, he’s not safe to be around. And it helps to remember that it’s not really him. Dwalin, the real Dwalin, is too honorable. I do not believe he’d ever really try to hurt you. All right? Repeat after me: it’s not him.”

“It’s not him,” I mumble, still shaking. “It’s not him.”

Bilbo embraced me. “Keep saying it until you believe it. Now gather your things. We can’t be here when he wakes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A Demon's Fate" by Within Temptation.


	15. Welcome to the Masquerade

**_Previously:_ **

_As the gold-madness takes a hold on the company, and in wake of Smaug’s death, Ori feels dread. He isn’t happy with what has happened to the company and eventually leaves the treasure room. He finds Bilbo in the hall, hiding under a table and crying. Ori joins him and asks him what is wrong. Bilbo admits that Thorin’s changed and that he’s not the Dwarf he fell in love with. When Thorin’s not thinking about the Arkenstone, he’s focused on Bilbo, but his behavior does not line up with a healthy relationship. Bilbo is certain it’s because of the gold-madness._

_Together, Ori and Bilbo find the library and hide out there for a while. When they get hungry, Ori goes back to the treasury, stealing some food and some medicine for Bilbo’s bruises and cuts. He feels he’s followed and assures that he has a way to defend himself: a knife he found in the treasury that was small enough to fit in his pocket. Once he’s back, he and Bilbo eat and then he helps Bilbo apply the medicine to his back._

_Once Bilbo is asleep, Ori is attacked by Dwalin, who molests him. Ori tries to defend himself, but only makes Dwalin angry. Unbeknownst to both of them, Bilbo had woken up and hits Dwalin with a broken chair leg as hard as he could, efficiently knocking him out. They flee the library and Bilbo reminds Ori that Dwalin is not in his right mind._

* * *

 

We've got the fire, who's got the matches   
Take a look around at the sea of masks   
and come one come all, welcome to the grand ball   
Where the strong run for cover and the weak stand tall 

* * *

When the Men and Elves came, Thorin failed to be reasonable. We had promised the Men of Laketown some of the gold and there is plenty of it to go around. As for the Elves, his claims are more reasonable. In a way, he holds a semblance of diplomacy. The Elves really do not have any claim to any of the treasure.

As soon as we’re done, Bilbo and I flee before Thorin or Dwalin can corner either of us. The next day did not go any better. On the third night, I can’t sleep. Bilbo doesn’t know this, but I can tell he’s having just as difficult a time sleeping as I am. He gets up and grabs his sack, opening it. Within is a bright white jewel and I blinked several times in order to convince myself that it’s real. I know it’s the Arkenstone. But why does Bilbo have it? Why hasn’t he given to Thorin? (Not that I think that’d be wise at this point.)

Bilbo stuffs the jewel back into his bag and flings it over his shoulder. He tiptoes away and I turn over, tightening the blanket around me.

I hope Bilbo knows what he’s doing.

#

“Ori, wake up!”

I sit up. Bilbo is above me, frowning and he looks pale. “They’re back,” he said.

I follow him to the ledge and again we keep our distance. Bard holds the Arkenstone up and Thorin stares at it, shocked and angry.

“How did you come by it?” Thorin demanded.

Bilbo cleared his throat and stepped closer. “I gave it to them,” he announced. He trembled as he spoke. “I had no choice, Thorin. They need money to rebuild their homes. I’m not condoning their coming with armies to the door, but they are desperate…”

I watched Thorin’s face shift from shock to sorrow and finally rage. He advances on Bilbo, who steps back until his back is pressed to the railing. Thorin curses him, shakes him, and lifts him up and over the ledge, threatening to drop him. I take a step forward and Dori grabs my arm.

“What are you doing?” I ask. He just looks away and refuses to answer me.

“If you want to kill me then kill me,” Bilbo said. “But I know you’re still in there, Thorin, and I still love you.” My blood chills and my eyes burn. Dori tightens his grip on me when I try to pull away.

“If you kill him, you’ll regret it to the end of your days!” I shout at Thorin. Dori pins both of my arms in his and drags me back inside. “You know that you’ll regret it!”

All I know after that is that Bilbo lived. Thorin banished him. I keep away from them, refusing to go near the company. I don’t know how much time passed as I hid where I could. I snuck into the library a few times to grab new books to read and return what I’ve already read.

“Ori?” Dwalin called. I hide behind a shelf, pulling the knife out. “Ori, are you here?”

 _It’s not him,_ I tell myself. _It’s not him._

Dwalin comes into my line of sight, holding a torch in his hand. There’s no time to neither run nor hide. I hold the knife out. “Stay away from me!” I growl.

Dwalin held his other hand out. “Ori, I’m unarmed.”

“You’re never unarmed!”

“Fair enough,” he said. “But I’m not here to hurt you, Lad. Your brothers are worried about you. We all are.” He steps forward and I step back. “Ori—”

“You attacked me!”

Dwalin lowered his hand and the lines in his face smoothed. “It wasn’t…it really…Mahal…Ori, I would never…not if I was in my right mind…Ori, I…I hoped it was a bad dream.”

“Well it wasn’t!” I shouted. “You attacked me!”

“Mizimel—”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!!!”

Dwalin raised his hand again. “Ori, I was gold-mad and I missed you. It’s a poor excuse and I know that but it’s the truth.” He knelt down getting onto his knees. “I do not deserve forgiveness after what I did. I never should’ve touched you. But you are my One and I have waited my whole life for you, Ori, so here I am, begging you to forgive me. It was never my intent to hurt you, Ori.”

“Intent or not, you did,” I spat.

“I know,” Dwalin said. “I know I am not who you wanted or even expected, but I have spent the last thirteen years protecting you. I will not touch you again if that is your wish, but please, Ori, allow me to protect you.”

Neither of us moves. My arm is getting heavy. Still, I have to ask. “Why did you kill Kaz—don’t give me that crap about it being an accident. We both know it wasn’t. You didn’t have to throw the ax, Dwalin. So why did you?”

Dwalin blinked. He lowered his gaze. “Ori, I’m not proud of it.”

“I did not ask that! Why did you kill Kazrik? You didn’t have to!”

Dwalin close his eyes and dropped his arms. The torch scorched the stone floor where it lay. “I killed Kazrik because he was a Kurdâl and a thief. I had dealt with Kazrik many times before and I had told him his behavior would get him killed one day. I did not expect I would be the one to kill him—”

“You _knew him_?!”

“I arrested him almost as much as I arrested Nori,” Dwalin confessed. “Kazrik was an arrogant little shit, but I didn’t mean to kill him. I saw a thief and I acted. I certainly didn’t know he was grieving or that he had a One to grieve over.”

I lower the knife at last. “So my being a Kurdâl is an inconvenience for you, I guess.”

“Ori, I don’t care that you’re a Kurdâl!” Dwalin said, climbing to his feet. “All I care about is that you’re safe and happy. You’re a smart lad, Ori. I know your life’s been rough. Regardless of your view me, I will be there for you.”

“You’d rather I love you.”

“Not against your will,” he said, “Never against your will. It’s not worth it. I can’t make you love me. Nor will I. You’re still a bairn, regardless how smart or mature you are. So it doesn’t matter whether you love me or not. I have to wait. But it would be nice if you weren’t always mad at me.” Dwalin picked up the torch. “You best go let your brothers know you’re all right.”

“What about Thorin?” I ask. “Last I saw he was threatening to kill Bilbo.”

“He’s been kicking his rear since the madness passed from him and we had to stop him from grabbing the sheers and cutting his hair. He feels he’s done something worse than threaten to kill his One.”

I don’t tell him that Thorin had done something else. Whether or not it’s worse, I don’t know.

“Tell my brothers I’ll be there shortly, will you?”

Dwalin nodded and we parted at the library entrance. I turned to watch him disappear around the corner. His shoulders are hunched and his gaze is on the floor. My heart aches for him. I’ve never felt pity for him before, but what else could it be? It has to be pity. I feel awful that I don’t really feel much for him beyond anger.

_It would be nice if you weren’t always mad at me._

I turn on my heel and walk to my hiding spot. I guess I could lighten up on him a bit, but not too much. I wouldn’t want him to think I forgive him for killing Kaz or for what he did to me just yet.

When I return to the throne room, Thorin is seated on the throne, bent in half. His hair seems to have gotten more silver streaks. Dori embraces me.“I don’t think I’ll ever understand how you managed to fight it,” he said, “but I am glad you did.” He steps back. “Are you all right? Dwalin—”

“I’m fine,” I assure him. “Everyone was going a little crazy. I’m not that upset with him anymore, but don’t tell him I said that.”

Dori chuckled and locked me in a head lock. “Finally letting go of all that rage?”

“Little by little,” I said. “Now let go of me.” I squeezed my head out of Dori’s grasp and massaged my neck. “Did I miss anything while I was hiding?”

“Other than the royal idiot moping and brooding more than usual?” Dori asked. He shook his head. “No. Just a declaration of war. Nothing serious.”

I shake my head. Leave it to my brother to trivialize war. Kili motions to me to join him and find some armor. The more I’m fitted, the greater the icy fear grows. “Do you think we’re going to make it?” I asked. Kili and Fili paused in donning their armor.

“Yes,” Fili said. “We’ll get out of this alive. You’re longing will kick in during the battle, I bet.”

“Just remember it’s not like a Dumúhúrud,” Kili said. “So be extra cautious when you fight.”

“You’ll be fine,” Fili added. “You’re already a great fighter. Not warrior good, but good enough, you know? I’m sure we’ll all get out of this alive. Due to the same bloody luck we’ve had since we set out. Uncle will win Bilbo back, make up the way he treated him somehow. You and Dwalin will get married as soon as you’re of age. In the summer. We’ll have peace. Hard won peace and that day will be beautiful. It’s worth the fight.”

I don’t see how he can be so positive. “But if this to be the end, I’d rather make it such an end worthy of remembrance. Wouldn’t you?” I nod, returning the smile Fili gave me.

We pause at the Orc scream echoing off the air and run to the balcony. Orcs and Goblins were approaching the mountain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Welcome to the Masquerade" By Thousand Foot Krutch


	16. Chapter 16

Carry on my wayward son  
There'll be peace when you are done  
Lay your weary head to rest  
Don't you cry no more

* * *

 

Telling one that a war is nothing like a Dumúhúrud is a far cry from enough to make it sink in. You can nod your head, and say “I know, I understand what you mean,” but it is not enough to prepare you for the carnage you’re about to see. After my armor is on, I half want to take it off the sake of being able to move faster. I don’t think any of Dwalin’s lessons were enough to ready me for this, despite how I frantically held onto his instructions which I replayed in my head.

What else could I do? This isn’t a brawl between rival gangs. This is much, _much_ worse. I’ve never killed before this adventure, and certainly have never killed in a fight. I don’t know how long I last until something struck my head and everything went black.

_“ORI!!!”_

“Am I dead?” I ask.

“Thankfully not.”

I open my eyes, staring at the carved stone with diamonds inlaid above me to mime the night sky. I sit up. “You’ve grown up, Kid.”

I turn to the speaker and gasp. “Kaz? Ithal?” I get up. “I thought you said I wasn’t dead.”

“You’re not,” Kaz assures me. “Just out cold. An Orc landed a good blow to the back of your head.” I reach for the wound and Ithal stops me.

“We need to talk to you, so now’s as good a time as any,” he said. “You’ll live, Mahal assured us you would. You’ve a few years left, longer if you let all that anger go.”

“I don’t know how,” I said. Kaz leaned against the wall.

“I don’t hate Dwalin for killing me, you know. I’m grateful for it.”

“That isn’t logical,” I said.

“Maybe not, Ori, but I’m with Ithal now, am I not? I’d rather be with him than have known him only a little while and have lost him. It’s not like you were left alone. You’ve got two brothers and Grun likes you well enough.”

“Not to mention your One,” Ithal said. I lean against a wall, crossing my arms. “We don’t resent what he did, Ori, and neither should you.”

“Honestly, when he gets here, I don’t know what I’m going to say to him,” Kaz said. “But whatever it is, it’ll be thanks, at the very least. I’m happy, Ori. We both are. To add, he loves you. Anyone with eyes can see that. So are you sure you’re not being needlessly cruel?”

“I don’t have a longing.”

“You’ll feel it once you let go of your anger,” Ithal said. “So let it go. What are you angry about?” I look at the floor. “Other than what Dwalin did.”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re not at all angry with the Kilmel? Or at Dori?” Kaz asked.

“Dori’s gotten better. And yes, I’m still angry at the Kilmel—”

“Yeah, he’s given you breathing room, but that doesn’t mean you’re not still upset with him,” Kaz said. “The Kilmel are just shitty little brats, Ori. They aren’t worth your time or your anger. So go ahead. Let it go, wipe ‘em off like dust on your shoulders and walk away. Course, that doesn’t mean don’t give ‘em shit when they give you shit.”

“Okay, fine! Yes, I’m mad Dwalin killed you. You and Ithal were my best friends. I had just lost one of you and then he went and killed you! He admitted he killed you in cold blood! But you make it sound like you wanted to die and that is just as infuriating! I get that Ithal’s your One and I have tried to understand but it never really helped! I was grieving too and _that_ just made everything worse! I ultimately blame Kilmel for this whole mess! They could’ve left us alone! But they didn’t! I don’t know why they wanted to kill me back then! I never did anything to deserve that! I was just a kid! And Dori? He never understood me! He never tried to understand me! Sure, he doesn’t yell at me as much as he used to, but guess what? The damage is done! You want me to forgive and forget? I _can’t_!”

“You can,” Ithal said calmly. “You’re just scared to because you feel that you’ve nothing else to hold onto.” He brushed a strand of hair away from my face. “Ori, doesn’t all that anger feel heavy? Isn’t it weighing you down?”

I blink, trying to hold back my tears. Ithal embraces me and I weep. A part of me feels embarrassed. I’ve not wept like this in years. At the same time, I can’t bring myself to care. I don’t know if I can forgive without some compensation. I don’t know how. They start to fade from me.

“Good,” Kaz said. “You’re waking up.”

“We don’t want to see you again until you’re an old Dwarf with a long beard,” Ithal said, wiping my tears. And after that, I see nothing but darkness again.

_Ori…_

I don’t want to be alone in the darkness again.

_Ori…_

I don’t want to be angry anymore.

I open my eyes. My head aches terribly and I stare at the ceiling. The light hurts my eyes and I groan. I turn my head to the side and see Dori and Nori in cots beside me. Both are asleep and wrapped in bandages.

An Elf approached and smiled down at me. “Good afternoon,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

“My head aches, but otherwise, I’m fine,” I tell her.

“Good. You’re brothers should be waking up soon. Reckless bunch you three are, but you have them to thank for still being alive.”

“I thought they’d take me to a Dwarven healer…”

“Well, healers work together. Your company’s healer is leading the rest of us in your care. Your king and princes are worse than you are and they’re likely to wake up any moment now.”

“My brothers?”

“They’ve been awake off and on. You’re friend was in here earlier,” she said as she approached with fresh bandages and a bowl of hot water and a poultice, “The big one with the tattoos and bald head.” My heart clenches at the thought and she helps me sit up. “Honestly, you’re all very lucky to be alive,” she continues.

“What of the battle?”

“We won,” she said. “The Orcs were defeated and Azog the Defiler was killed by the Halfling—”

“Hobbit,” I correct. “Halfling is derogatory. Not that he’d correct you. He should though.”

“I’ll spread the word not to call him that then,” she promised, wiping a cloth on the back of my head. It stings. “Try to hold still.”

Doesn’t make it sting any less. “Do you know how to let go of anger?”

“Only cure for that is to forgive,” she said. “Even if it means you get nothing out of it and it’s a repetitive process. You don’t even have to tell who you’re angry at that you forgive them. Forgiveness is more for you than for them. The likelihood that the person who wronged you knows they wronged you is slim. If they do, well, they’ll do their best to make it up to you regardless. Why? Are you mad at someone?”

“I’m always mad at someone. I guess that’s not…good?”

“No. It’s not,” she said. “But it’s still you that has to make the choice to forgive and if you really want to let it go. Anger can cause an emotional blockage and the stronger it is, the stronger the blockage. You can either let it rule you or you can let it go. But the choice is ultimately yours. Sometimes it can happen instantly, other times, it takes a little while. Either way, it’s still a choice you have to make.”

I never thought of it that way. She leaves and I press the palm of my hand to my chest. Forgiving everyone and everything that has angered me is going to take a while. At least that’s how I feel. But, looking at my brothers, I think I can start there. It doesn’t matter how angry I am at them, they’re my brothers and I will always love them.

I lie down and stare at the ceiling. I guess, in a way, Dori had it rather hard. Our mother died when we were still very young. It took him a very long time to convince someone to let him work. Nori took the thieving to keep us from starving, even though it wasn’t enough to get us a roof for until someone finally pitied us enough to let Dori work for them. And he insisted on me following my dream of being a scribe despite everything. I was about the age he was when Amad died now. I can’t imagine taking on that same burden. Despite our living situation, I still got to be a kid because of him and Nori.

“You’re awake?”

I look at Dwalin and sit up again. He’s just as bandaged as I am and gripping a walking stick. One of his legs is splinted -and he balanced his weight on his good foot. A sense of wholeness seems to wash over me when I see him again. My heart beats just a little faster and blood seems to rush to my face and brain. Talking seems to become difficult.

So this is what it feels like when you find your One at last. I can’t tell if it’s nice or not. “I guess I missed most of the battle?” I asked, ungluing my tongue from the roof of my mouth.

“All that matters is that you’re alive,” he said, hobbling over and sitting at the edge of my bed, “Thanks to your brothers.” I stare at my hands. “Ori, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry for being so hard on you,” I whisper. He stares at me. I’m almost surprised Dwalin heard me. “I’m not…I’m not good at forgiving and I tend to hold grudges and I’m kind of scared of letting go of all the rage I feel.”

“Neither am I,” Dwalin admitted. “I learned early on that fighting helps me blow off steam.” That makes sense. I don’t know if fighting works for me. Writing, though, does. It always has. “Thorin’s woken up today as well. Idiot tried to get out of bed so to grovel at Bilbo’s feet. Bilbo told him he’d make sure he really did die if he dared to hinder his healing. I hate to say it, but Thorin’s whipped.”

I chuckle. “So Bilbo’s forgiven him?”

“Mostly, it sounds like. He’s still telling Thorin that he owes him and that when he’s able, he’s a lot of feet kissing to do. Of course, Bilbo has to go back for a bit. Just to get everything in order. Maybe even cart the house’s contents from the Shire to here.”

“How’s Thorin taking that?”

“Not as well as Bilbo hoped he would. He wants to go with him. Bilbo told him to focus on healing, restoring the palace—he said something about expecting to be rid of dragon dung by the time he returned.” I wrinkled my nose.

“I think Bilbo needs a little more time separate from Thorin, given what happened when he was gold mad. It was a little similar to how you acted, according to Bilbo, but also longer lasting.”

“Ooh,” Dwalin winced. “Maybe we should let Thorin cut his hair then. Well, at least his braids.”

“At least,” I agreed, grinning. “Probably shouldn’t shock the people too much.”

“Had I braids of my own—”

“Then I’d tell you to keep them. It was…just the one time. And I was scared, I’ll admit that, but…I can forgive it, I suppose. I shouldn’t, but I do. Dori won’t if he finds out.”

“No, I wouldn’t expect him to,” Dwalin agreed, glancing warily at Dori’s cot. “Let’s hope he isn’t pretending, eh?”

I shrug. “I don’t know…it’d be funny to see you try to outrun him.” Dwalin glares at me.

“What is wrong with you? Did the Orc hit your head a little too hard?” he asked.

“Maybe,” I say, adjusting my position on the bed. “I think it…this is going to sound weird, but I think it triggered my Longing…in roundabout way. So…yeah, I know everyone was telling the truth about you being my One. It’s…nice. I don’t really know how to describe it. Whole, I guess would be better.”

Dwalin kissed my forehead and I wince at the sharp pain it brings. “I need to make sure the royal brats are awake. We’ll discuss this more later. It changes nothing though: when you’re legally an adult, we’ll court.” He used the staff to help him up with a groan. “I’ll let you know how Fili and Kili are later.”

I nod and bid him goodbye until next time. I lie down again, shifting to my side. Now that I’m awake, I’m restless. I look at the bedside table and stare at Kaz’s knife. Someone must have come to return it. I pick it up and examine it.

I suppose I have to let go of the past some time.

Starting today.

~THE END~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Carry On My Wayward Son" by Kansas


End file.
